Descartes' Error
by StarTrekFanWriter
Summary: Starts with Spock accused of misconduct - specifically with being involved with a certain Cadet we all know and love, and flashes back to how he got in such an illogical predicament to begin with. Romance/Sci-Fi/Humor/Drama - Spock and Uhura Origins.
1. Accusations

DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.

**SUMMARY:**

In the movie, Spock was worried about appearing to give favoritism to Nyota -- there must have been some reason he was worried about giving that impression. Someone _KNEW_ something was up. And how would a 'logical' guy like Spock wind up wrapped up in something like that to begin with?

Also, Spock seemed to be Pike's second in Command, but apparently had been some sort of instructor at some time...how did he go from instructor to second in Command on the Enterprise?

Finally, love Spock as I do, he has some anger management issues.

UPDATE: Thank you JAGNikJen for the grammar help!

**Accusations**

The Hall of Sciences was dim. Four humans and three Vulcans convened at the tip of a giant meeting table shaped like a Starfleet insignia.

Sitting at the head of the table was Commander Doris Sharpton, acting dean of the School of Sciences. She was a no-nonsense looking sort of woman with short white hair, very little makeup wearing a Starfleet pant suit uniform. Usually, her appearance would have been softened by a face etched with laugh lines, but at this moment she was sitting stiffly, eyebrows scowling, trying to contain her annoyance.

An older man was standing at the right side of the table flanked by the three Vulcans. His white hair and beard were unkempt. He was oddly shaped, with a strange potbelly emphasized by a pair of pants worn slightly too high. "You do know what I'm talking about, although I know you all like to pretend otherwise..."

"Professor Xelium," Doris replied, "I'm racking my brain and I can honestly say I have no idea what you are referring to."

The two other humans next to her nodded and murmured in assent. The Vulcans did not move, nor did they say anything. Xelium smiled. "He touched her, right up there for everyone to see. He took her hand, and squeezed it ever so lightly. Oh it was cute. And did you notice how he looked at her at that moment?"

"And you are basing your accusation of improper conduct between an instructor and a cadet, putting both their reputations at risk, and jeopardizing the reputation of this institution on the basis that he may have touched her hand, and maybe, maybe looked at her fondly?" Doris' voice was low, even and controlled. Her eyes shot knives.

"You know I would never make this accusation if he was human of course," Xelium said, his voice softer now, a smirk plastered to his face. "But the Lieutenant in question is not human, he is Vulcan. That is why I've requested the presence of three of Starfleet's Vulcan Council on Interspecies Relations at this meeting."

Next to Doris, one of the humans, a short compact man in his early forties, snapped, "What sort of bloody witch hunt is this?"

Doris nodded at the man in acknowledgment. "You express my feelings exactly Lieutenant Commander O'Hara. I am sure our Vulcan guests are just as baffled by the accusation as we are."

Doris turned her eyes to the elder Vulcan in the group, expecting for him to confirm her assumptions. She was sorely disappointed.

"In point of fact," the elder Vulcan began, "we found this public display highly inappropriate in nature. Not only was it physical contact between an unbonded pair, but it was between a superior and a subordinate. Moreover, it occurred in a public venue. It was an unprecedented display of emotion, and suggests intimate relationships beyond what is acceptable. We believe his logic and rationality are compromised."

Doris sighed inwardly. Generally interspecies counselors defended their members against cultural misunderstandings. That is why they were required at these sorts of proceedings. Damn Vulcans and their sense of propriety.

Another member of the human team, a neat man of Japanese descent, also in his mid-40's, replied to the Vulcan, "D'Zorack, he is half human and he has been on living with humans for 7 years. Maybe he has picked up some human mannerisms?"

D'Zorak regarded the man coldly. "Professor Matsumura, he was born and raised on Vulcan, no matter what his genetic heritage. What he did was wrong based on his upbringing -- and his Vulcan ancestry. Further, Vulcans don't just pick up mannerisms. They only consciously adopt behaviors based on long hours of careful meditation. The adoption of such an emotional display would suggest a severe lapse in judgment. This is particularly disturbing since his choices and recommendations will affect the cadet's future."

Dr. Xelium jumped in here. "You see Doris, your wunderkind has feet of clay." Then he added, "What I believe, D'Zorak is trying to say is that it would be terrible if an unqualified cadet promoted on the couch were to put the lives of her fellow officers at risk on board a starship."

"That was uncalled for," shot Doris.

O'Hara spoke up, his voice cold as ice this time. Although responding to Xelium he spoke to the Vulcans. "And, it's an inductive argument. You can't say that because he touched her wrist and looked at her funny that he's got her on the couch. It's a fallacy…and illogical." O'Hara turned his gaze directly to the leader. "Right D'Zorak?

D'Zorak looked at Patrick for a moment and then turned back to Xelium. "We agree that his relationship is far too intimate, and that his logic is compromised. But the act we are discussing cannot logically be used as evidence for another act. We regard the public display as an indication of further intimacy between the two. We would suggest Spock be questioned as to the extent of the relationship, but what we saw is not proof."

"Then why don't we bring him up here and ask him," Xelium said addressing everyone, continuing to smirk. "Let him clear the air for us."

Doris was thinking that this might be a good idea, just to shut Xelium up. It would be entertaining to watch Spock castrate Xelium with his cool logic--and give the Vulcan a chance for public exoneration.

Professor Matsumura spoke up. His voice was very soft. "Vulcans are intensely private about such matters, I'm sure a public trial, even just before us would be extremely uncomfortable for him. If Spock is to be implicated by Vulcan standards, any inquiries into his conduct should be done in a private way by his immediate superior -- this is a right that would be granted to him on Vulcan, would it not?"

Of all the humans at the table Matsumura had the most experience with Vulcan culture, Doris remembered, this and only this caused Doris to hold back her urge to have Spock immediately called before the committee.

D'Zorak spoke now. "Indeed, we would not suggest otherwise. He needs to be questioned about other possible improper conduct, but a public confrontation might be too…revealing."

At this statement, Doris noticed Xelium's smile shrink a little.

D'Zorak continued, "However, whatever the outcome of that conversation we would submit that he be subject to observation to monitor his mental condition."

Observation would mean that Spock would have his movements and contacts with other Starfleet personnel and students monitored at all times via his commlink. Depending on the terms of the observation period, all his conversations could become part of public record too. Doris watched disgusted as Xeliums' smile slipped back onto his face.

"Isn't that a little much, D'Zorak?" Doris asked.

D'Zorak tilted his head. "I suspect after this impropriety is brought to Lieutenant Commander Spock's attention he will request a period of observation himself. Both to clear his and the cadet's name, and to protect himself against the possibility of further deterioration in his mental abilities."

Doris pushed herself back from the table and stood up, smoothing her pants with agitated hands. "This is utterly ridiculous. But if it is the position of the counsel that his immediate supervisor question him, I will do it. Does this satisfy everyone?" The last sentence was said with undisguised venom, and she drilled her eyes into Xelium's as she spoke.

All three Vulcan's nodded. Dr. Matsumura bowed his head in ascent.

O'Hara, rolled his eyes and muttered, "Yeah it's fine," Then he added, "This is worse than God Damn Victorian England."

Doris turned her attention to the one remaining member of the gathering. "Xelium?"

He tilted back in his chair, and stroked his beard theatrically.

Doris realized with great frustration that he was doing this to irritate her and the other humans in the committee...and unfortunately it was working.

"Well normally, I think a meeting with all of us would be more appropriate. But....with the condition of further observation I see no problem with it."

"All right," Snapped Doris, "Meeting adjourned."

The next day, Doris made her way down the hall to Spock's office. She felt vaguely sick, Spock was innocent, and probably would only have an intellectual curiosity in the accusations at best...But it was still troubling to her to have to even bring the subject up at all.

She had no doubt as to Xelium's motivations. Spock _was_ a wunderkind. In his few short years at Starfleets' Academy his rise had been meteoric. Due in no small part to her efforts to navigate him more quickly through the maze of bureaucratic road blocks, and getting him installed in his own lab in record time. The only hurdle she hadn't been able to help him hop was his assignment as most junior officer and instructor in the department to teach the Xenolinguists students the Science of Signal Transmissions, Sub- and Non-Subspace Curriculum.

She sighed. Twenty years ago the Xenolinguist Department had lost their own professor while he'd been on mission with the U.S.S. Kelvin. Unfortunately, the temporary assignment of one of her colleagues to teach the course had proved so successful -- in the eyes of the budgeting department at least, that the original position was never replaced.

Spock vindicated her efforts to advance him quickly. His discoveries in the realm of radio subspace transmissions put Starfleet Academy in the same league as the Vulcan Science Academy.

Moreover, his discoveries rearranged the Terran history books. Doris mentally corrected herself, Spock was always quick to point out that the historical implications of his research were due in large part to the curiosity of his assistant, Cadet Uhura. Always logical Doris mused, never the narcissist, very different from Xelium.

Once Xelium had been considered a wunderkind himself. But his theories had largely been disproved or overshadowed. Until lately, Xelium's research had been unheralded and obscure…well, he still didn't seem to think his new work was heralded enough. To make up for the lack of attention professionally, Xelium pretty much lived to get attention personally--by ruffling feathers, upsetting others, and generally being a nasty obtrusive nuisance.

She shook her head; not for the first time she silently cursed the academic tradition of tenure.

Spock's Vulcan demeanor had been off putting at first; Doris realized even now that in four years she'd never really had a personal conversation with the young researcher. But gradually she and the other members of the department had begun to warm to him. He was a cold, emotionally detached Vulcan, but he was _their_ cold, emotionally detached Vulcan. Spock was always willing to take up an intellectual conversation. He could detect almost any logical flaw in a theory, but his criticisms were never emotionally driven. He was a remarkable asset if you were a researcher who found yourself painted into a corner...if there was a logical way out, he could see it. Not surprisingly his opinions were often sought and always respected.

And well, Spock knew his demeanor was a problem. He spent a great deal of time in his early years at the Academy studying human psychology and culture. He did his best to respect the niceties, and in the last year and a half or so he'd become much better dealing with human foibles.

The good thing about Spock's logical disposition was that he would undoubtedly take these accusations with his normal cool detachment. That didn't mean she didn't feel sick to her stomach telling him about them.

She reached the door to Spock's lab. It was open, of course. His door was always open. She didn't see him at the simulation consoles but she could hear Cadet Uhura's laughter bubbling from the open door to his office. And she paused...because she heard something she had never thought she'd hear from Spock. For an instant she felt a twinge of uncertainty.

**A/N:**

Thank you for reading. I know that starting OC's is a dangerous thing! Next chapter Uhura and Spock interaction...  
Reviews are how FanFiction authors get paid (the only way we get paid!) So please leave a note if you liked it, or if there was something that really bothered you.


	2. Suspicious Behavior

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

_Thank you for all your reviews, constructive criticism is always appreciated. I don't have anyone being my beta reader so I really appreciate the feedback._

_Thanks especially to JAGNikJen for the grammar help!_

**Suspicious Behavior**

Unbidden and unscripted, Spock was joking with Uhura.

"Come on, you can think of some other use for this subspace receiver than just delivering Starfleet weather reports to distant colonists," laughed the Cadet, her back to the the door.

Spock was standing opposite Uhura several feet across the office. He held a four by eight inch black box in his hand and he was speaking in his usual monotone, "Well, Cadet, it might make a very good doorstop..."

"No, Lieutenant Commander, we did not spend two years of our lives building a better doorstop. You can do better than that."

"But it is exactly the right size and mass. Colonists don't often have pneumatic doors and..." he looked up to see Doris at the door. "Commander Sharpton, I did not hear you come in."

Both he and Uhura snapped to attention as Doris entered. She waved in the gesture they knew to mean at ease.

Uhura smiled. "Commander Sharpton," she exclaimed happily, "How are you?" And then because she was Uhura she walked over and touched the older woman's arm, lightly directing Doris over to get a closer look at the device Spock was now carefully inspecting.

"It's the first prototype from the engineering department," Uhura explained. "The Lieutenant Commander just invited me over to see it. I think that it might be nice for lonely colonists on distant outposts without subspace stations to receive a birthday greeting from their mother on occasion...he doesn't share my enthusiasm."

Spock said nothing; he merely flipped the object in his hands and tapped gingerly at what looked like speakers.

"Ah, your new baby," Doris said, mentally choking on her choice of words.

Spock looked up and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"It's an expression, I will explain it later," Uhura said.

Doris had the sudden feeling that she'd interrupted a very intimate conversation. She sighed inwardly. The best thing to do was just get this unpleasantness over with.

"Uhura, I'd like to talk to Spock alone for a few minutes," Doris said.

"That's alright; I was just on my way to my next class. Have a good day Commander Sharpton, Lieutenant Commander." She nodded in their directions, grabbed a bag that had been sitting on the floor and headed out the door.

Doris watched the young woman stride purposefully through the lab. Uhura's a good girl, Doris thought to herself, she can be tough and feisty when she needs to be, but in general just tries to make everyone feel comfortable.

She turned to face Spock. He was looking directly into Doris' eyes, his usual serene mask on his face. Without asking permission, Doris reached out and touched the close door button.

"You might want to sit down for this Spock, I know I need to," she said, looking around for a chair. Spock remained where he was, but he put down the transmitter and pulled his hands behind his back. Doris decided against sitting down, she wanted to pace, she didn't want to look him in the eye.

She sighed audibly. "Spock, I'm very embarrassed to have to have this conversation with you...and I want to say at the outset that I have no doubt of your innocence..."

Then she took a deep breath, swallowed, and continued, "You've been accused of professional misconduct. Specifically of being in an inappropriate relationship with a subordinate."

"May I ask on what evidence?" the Vulcan asked, ever his cool composed self.

"Spock..." she laughed nervously, not looking at him. "You are guilty of squeezing a girl's hand in public and looking at her in the wrong way."

For a moment he looked confused, tilting his head and looking at the floor. Then he murmured, "Ahhh...before she delivered the translation...Cadet Uhura."

He looked down at the ground, tilted his head a bit and then continued quietly. "It was not her hand, it was her wrist. I noticed that her heart rate was elevated. She is surprisingly shy about public speaking." Another pause, then he continued, "I have noticed that brief gestures of physical contact are calming to humans under stress. I acknowledged the gesture and her nervousness with eye contact."

Doris smiled and suddenly felt immeasurably more relaxed. "I knew of course you would have a perfectly logical explanation."

She sighed. "Well, the Vulcan Interspecies Council got involved. They of course find the gesture highly offensive, indicative of a deeper relationship, and evidence of a deterioration of your mental abilities. But as you just so logically pointed out, you were just demonstrating cross-cultural sensitivity."

Doris continued, "I'm supposed to verify with you privately that there is no more untoward behavior between you and Cadet Uhura, and the council is recommending that you be placed under observation."

Now she turned and looked at him hard. "Of course, what I would really like to do is blow this up in their faces. I know Vulcan's are private about such matters, but this is...this is unacceptable."

"What are you proposing?" Spock asked.

"I'm proposing we go public with it, bring the charges out in the open--preferably before the Interspecies Council and the chancellor. You'll defend yourself, show how baseless the accusations are. It's outrageous the standards they are holding you to!"

Spock walked slowly around his desk and seated himself in his chair. He rested his elbows on the table and clasped his hands in front of him.

"Commander," he said, "I would prefer not to take such a public course of action."

Doris took a deep breath, Vulcan propriety again. "Spock, I think we could just get away with you reading a prepared statement enumerating the logic behind your perceived misbehavior and declaring your innocence. You are a Vulcan, your word is your bond--there will be no cross questioning. Then I'll ream them a new one for the absurdity of it all." Doris had not worked her way to the head of the department by being genteel.

Spock sat staring straight ahead saying nothing.

Doris leaned in closer to him. "Spock, I know Vulcan's are normally private about such matters, but do you really want to be placed under observation?"

Spock didn't respond to her question. He stared at some indefinable space in front of him and murmured, "Declare my innocence...

"Commander, I have never let emotion cloud my judgment of Cadet Uhura's or any other student or aides performance. I have kept excellent records of ..."

"Of course you haven't let emotion influence your grading Spock!" Doris said a bit exasperated. "You've never let emotion cloud anything. You are the most cold, calculating, controlled mind in this department. And we all love you for it! That is why I want to go public with this. To shame your accusers, clear your and Uhura's names and get on with it. All you have to do, Spock, is declare your innocence. It's that simple...isn't it?"

Spock was silent for a long moment before he responded, his voice soft, his face a mask. "It is not that simple."

"Spock, I really don't understand the problem. Is it your Vulcan sense of propriety?"

"No. It is not a matter of propriety."

He looked like he was trying to say something, but instead he just took a long slow intake of breath. He looked down and said quietly, as though revealing something he himself was surprised to discover, "You see, I seem to be unable to lie."

Suddenly the memory of Uhura's laughter just a few minutes ago rang through Doris' mind. The older woman walked over to the wall opposite Spock and weakly sat down in the extra chair. She put one hand to her forehead, massaged her temple, and muttered under her breath, "Oh Hell, Spock."

**A/N:**

Thank you for reading. Next chapter its all Spock and Nyota.


	3. Descartes Error

Descartes Error

1 YEAR 8 MONTHS EARLIER

Spock was standing over Cadet Uhura in the signal transmissions laboratory.

She had just begun instruction with him a month ago, right after the grueling 13 weeks of basic training in combat and weapons all cadets had to undergo. Her black hair was still short from the initial cut she'd received that first day, only long enough to be tied into a tiny regulation ponytail at the back of her neck. As a xenolinguistics student she was required to take two signal transmission courses with Spock; one special half semester course after BT, then one more in her second semester.

Cadet Uhura, although a diligent student, had not displayed any great aptitude, nor great enthusiasm for signal transmissions, at least from the theoretical or practical physics aspect of it. Although, to be fair neither had any of her other Xenolinguist colleagues. So Spock was a little surprised that she had been focused on a monitor for nearly two hours after lab had ended.

"Cadet Uhura," said Spock, "The lab has been over since 14:00. What are you doing?"

The Cadet looked up at him startled. "Lieutenant," she said rising.

"As you were," he said, and then nodded at the screen. "What are you doing?"

She turned back to the 2D monitor. "I'm looking for something."

Spock arched his eyebrows. This was a maddeningly imprecise answer. "Perhaps Cadet, if you gave me more details, I will be able to help you."

She turned and looked at him. "I'm sorry. We just had an exam in History of Alien Contact. Our instructor gave us each a different sample of random static pulled from the archives. All the samples were supposed to be negative for contact, but I heard something in mine." She reached for her PADD. "Would you like to hear?"

Spock was curious about anything that could motivate a xenolinguist student to pour through signal transmissions voluntarily for fifteen minutes, let alone two hours.

"Please," he said, taking the proffered PADD, and plugging in his ear buds.

The sample lasted only a few seconds. "Cadet, all I hear is static from some sort of primitive radio wave receiving device."

"Listen again-right at the end."

Spock complied and again heard nothing.

She read his expression and said softer this time, "Once more. Please, listen..."

He did so, concentrating this time at the end, and he heard it. Less than a heart beat from the end of the short sample, there in the static was a faint but audible sound.

"I hear it," he responded, "It almost sounds like the Romulan 13th tone."

"Yes," the Cadet said triumphantly, "That is exactly what I said, but my professor does not agree."

She touched the PADD. The screen held what was obviously her responses to an exam. She pointed to the fourth question where her student input said, Radio reception, 30kHz-30MHz. Possible alien transmission at the end, Romulan 13th tone.

Beneath her reply was input in red, Radio transmission. Negative for contact. Very active imagination. 0 Points.

"Cadet," Spock said, "Although I do think he should have given you partial credit for catching that...anomaly, the sample is too short to accurately determine if what we are hearing is Romulan in origin."

"I know, but it just feels to me there is something more than static going on there," Uhura replied.

"A feeling isn't a logical basis to go on," Spock responded noting to himself that this was the 135th time he'd spoken these words since joining Starfleet.

The cadet looked at him briefly and then smiled a bit mischievously. "I'm human, not Vulcan. My brain doesn't work like yours. It can't take all the stimulus it receives and process it logically because it can't possibly know all the stimulus it receives. It's made up of serial, not parallel circuits; I rely on my emotions to trigger what I know subconsciously and bring them to the forefront of my conscious."

At least, thought Spock, she acknowledges that her feeling itself isn't definitively rational. "Ah yes," he replied, "Descartes Error, the theory that emotions provide the basis for human rational thought."

"I'm testing the theory in practice right now."

He was about to comment on the unscientific nature of her experiment, but she caught him first. "Yes, I realize that my sample size is too small and I don't exactly have a control group...

"I also know that the sample is too short. I was trying to perform a waveform analysis on it, and then I thought I could match it up to the complete recording. But, to be honest, I'm not very good at this."

Well, at least she admits it, thought Spock looking over her shoulder at the poorly chosen parameters she'd selected for said waveform analysis. "Cadet, I have to clear the lab out," he said, "Please send me the original sample."

The next week after lab Spock took the Cadet Uhura aside. "Walk with me," he said.

Uhura followed him out of the Xenolinguistics laboratory, down the hall into his laboratory and into his office.

Spock turned to face her. "I found the original recording for your sample. It was from a very unusual project back in the 1990s to scan radio frequencies for extraterrestrial contact."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. You didn't have to find it, it must have taken you a very long time."

Spock looked at her. "In point of fact, the waveform analysis only took me 13.5 minutes, it did take a long time for the computer to sort through the archives, but that was largely passive effort on my part."

"So you did think that there was something worth looking into in this sample, though," she said smiling.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "No, Cadet, I performed the analysis and search to prove you wrong."

"Computer," he said, "Play recording 180092A."

The familiar static filled the room. But this time it didn't stop.

"It is a dead ringer for the Romulan 13th tone!" Uhura exclaimed.

Spock held a finger to his lips as the recording continued.

She became quiet, then her eyes widened. "It almost sounds like Romulan 20th click," and there was a pause in the recording, "and is that a Romulan tone 15..?"

"Computer end recording." He turned and faced her. "That is what I heard too. Obviously the recording has been tampered with. Had a Romulan visited Earth during the 1990s, it is doubtful that either of us would be here today. Still, your intuition was right, even if the recording is false. The unexpected results of my efforts to disprove Descartes Error have proven to be more interesting than the expected outcome."

She started to speak, holding out her fingers as she did so as though she were counting. One finger extended. "Romulan 13th tone, to change, to switch, to rearrange, to move." She extended her second finger, "Romulan click 20 meaning 4th, infinite, but this is the old dialect so it probably is closer to the meaning 'time'..." A third finger extended. "Romulan tone 15th, beneath, but again ancient dialect, more like tunnel..."

He was genuinely impressed that a cadet barely in her first year knew ancient Romulan. "I believe your interpretation is correct, it is an excellent imitation."

She didn't seem to have heard him, she just murmured, almost to herself, "Switch time tunnel...the Romulan word for subspace literally translates to tunnels through time, although they use a different set of clicks and syllables now. Lieutenant Spock, is he saying to switch to a subspace transmission?"

"It could, theoretically. If it were genuine. I have checked, this recording hasn't been altered since it made it to the Starfleet records, but it is nearly 200 years old."

Spock watched her shoulders fall a little bit.

Then she asked, "Lieutenant Spock, would you please play the recording again?"

Spock doubted that they'd missed anything in the recording, still, her aural abilities seemed to be better than his own. "Computer please repeat the recording."

They listened in silence as the static of the faint 'Romulan' sample played. And then Cadet Uhura did something he did not expect. She shivered. Was his office too cold? Well, yes, it was always too cold for him, but she was human, not Vulcan, and he didn't detect any sudden change in temperature.

"Cadet, are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes, it's just eerie," she replied, "He just sounds so...sad."

Spock took a long deep breath. "Cadet, indulging in speculation about what is, in all probability, the emotional state of the perpetrator of fraud, seems not to be the best use of our time."

"You said that the recording hadn't been tampered with since coming into Starfleet records-when was that?"

"It has been in the archives since Starfleet was founded in 2140. I actually think that is the reason it hasn't been analyzed since now. The early years of Starfleet were very disorganized."

"Terrans have only been able to interpret the Romulan ancient dialect since 2150," said the cadet.

"Vulcans have known it much longer."

"Yes I know, but Vulcans don't perpetrate fraud."

"True, but the possibility of this being genuine..."

"...is highly unlikely. If Romulans were here we wouldn't be. It's just...I guess the only way to prove that it is genuine would be to get the subsequent subspace transmissions." She laughed softly and continued, "and of course they weren't exactly listening to subspace signals in the 1990s. So it's impossible, a dead end."

Spock's Vulcan compulsion for honesty got the best of him. "It is impossible, presently. But with this particular recording, most likely possible within the next two and a half years."

"Excuse me?"

"Recently there has been research into reconstructing subspace signals from radio waves. If sufficient information is available from the radio spectrum-that is to say there is data for low, medium, high, and ultra high frequencies, it is possible to analyze the signals, create a dimensional array from the data and then reconstruct patterns generated by subspace activity.

"Sufficient data does exist for this recording. It was part of the Sagan Project, a privately funded project to search for extraterrestrial visitors. Across the globe at the time, governments made sporadic attempts to scan the universe for electromagnetic radio waves that signaled extraterrestrial intelligence in distant galaxies...the founders of Sagan focused on the skies above their heads. The Saganites were convinced that Earth had been visited from time to time. They collected signals from across the radio spectrum-so sufficient data does exist to reconstruct patterns of subspace activity; the trick would be interpreting it.

"Currently, the focus of the research is to translate the subspace activity derived from the dimensional array."

He stopped to consider; it was quite an effort putting this into simplistic language. "The data from the dimensional array are the footprints of subspace signals as they enter and exit normal time.

"For each known sound in every known language there is a unique footprint. Currently the research is identifying each footprint in laboratory simulations. This is a long laborious process. After that step is done further research will need to be done to isolate sentient subspace signals from naturally occurring transmissions."

"I'd never heard of this research...who is doing it?" Cadet Uhura asked.

Spock paused. "I am."

The cadet looked at him unblinking. Then she squared her shoulders and asked, "Lieutenant Spock, do you believe an assistant skilled in xenolinguistics could be of help in your research?"

Spock tilted his head. "A skilled assistant perhaps, but as barely a first year student, I doubt that you are qualified."

Cadet Uhura responded in perfect Vulcan standard, "I was introduced to Vulcan, Romulan dialects I, II and III, and Klingon before I was even a year old. I've tested out of all of the entry level courses in these subjects."

Spock blinked; if she wasn't standing in front of him he would have thought he was listening to a native speaker.

She continued in Vulcan, "I am conversationally fluent in Cardassian, Orion, Ferengi, Gorn, and Andorian, and know the structural features of these and ten other xenolanguages quite well. Plus myriad other Terran languages..."

Then she switched to another language and said a stream of smooth words Spock did not understand. Spock looked at her impassively. "Excuse me, Cadet, I don't think I know that last one..."

"Oh, sorry, that was Betazed. I just said that I've been studying it informally, for fun."

Spock took her on.

**A/N:**

This chapter was almost lost forever. I overwrote it accidentally a little while ago. Thankfully, the wonderful Spockside had a copy on her hard drive.

**As always, reviews are love.**


	4. Less Than Optimal Minds

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

_Bad Science Alert: I will try to keep the bad science at least consistent. If you're a real sci-fi purist you'll probably be turned off. But if you're a real sci-fi purist, why are you watching movies based on concepts like "Red Matter"?_

_And a change in tone. This is my second story. Know you are all loving the dialogue, but in this chapter I'm taking another tone to give some additional insight more quickly than could be shown in dialogue. I know I have some professional writers out there reading this. I would be interested in how they would handle it._

_Finally...I'm loading up quite a few chapters at once here. Not sure about the chapters before Breakdown. Wanted to leave you with something deep._

**Descartes Error**

**Less than Optimal Minds**

Spock did nothing with the Sagan recording at first, other than to report it to Commander Sharpton. If there was tampering with some of the files the Commander should know. He planned to look into the recording further if the Commander found nothing suspicious, but for now his research was far too preliminary to be of use in unraveling its mysteries.

Subspace signals were how all sentient space going races communicated across the light years. Ordinary radio transmission could take millions of years to cross between stars. A subspace signal could cross instantly. He had successfully proven that subspace transmissions left markers in radio frequencies when they departed and entered normal time. Now he was looking for patterns. Each sound in a subspace transmission, and the length of a sound itself, created its own unique signature, as the energy used to create it drilled a tiny tunnel into the fourth dimension, and then another unique foot print as it exited the realm of subspace and entered normal time. If these foot prints could be identified, reading subspace transmissions in radio signals might become common practice.

The advantages of a radio signal receiver were obvious. Genuine subspace receiving and sending stations were cumbersome. They needed to be able to generate large amounts of power to send signals, and because of the magic of quantum energy conservation, they also needed to be able to receive large quantities of power -- which meant that those on both the sending AND receiving end of subspace signals could be easily detected.

If ordinary radio waves could be used to interpret subspace signals then very lightweight, low power subspace signal interpreting devices could be created. Colonists in remote outposts with intermittent power could receive critical messages from space. There were strategic advantages as well. Because those on the receiving end of the signal would not require the large amounts of power generally required for a subspace receiver they could pass undetected in enemy territory, receiving, if not sending tactical communications.

He had reached the point in his research where he was cracking the code of each individual language. It was a laborious process--simulations had to be run, run again, checked and cross checked. Then all results had to be translated, cataloged and organized in a rational way.

Uhura was able to help Spock begin simulations and download data when his schedule did not allow. But it was in the second task Uhura truly excelled. As a Xenolinguist (if an inexperienced one) she knew just about every sound in every known language and was familiar with the tempo of languages as well. As he was able to extrapolate a signature for a particular tone or pause she was to identify it and handle the tedious task of cataloging.

Her help left him free to calibrate the simulators and refine the algorithms. It also left him free to plan the second phase of his project, which would be putting his theory into practical use. Combining modern radio frequency recordings with known subspace transmissions and deciphering them--if and when he was successful at this he would turn his attention to the study of historical transmissions. But the second phase would by no means be easy. Outside the laboratory there would be thousands of communication subspace transmissions to untangle, plus naturally occurring subspace noise generated by the stars and planets themselves.

Once when he had commented on the natural occurring subspace sounds Uhura had laughed and said, "Our job would be so much easier if the stars weren't gossiping to each other."

It seemed a pointless thing to say and he had been about to tell her so but she caught him before he could even open his mouth, "Its a joke Lieutenant Spock. By joking about the extra time we will incur due to the gossip of the stars I am relieving the tension I feel caused by my impatience to see your theory proved. It is how I deal with my emotions in a way that does not hinder my productivity."

Then she beamed at him and said in Vulcan, "_I'm just doing the best I can to accommodate the failings of my less than optimal human mind._.." and placing a hand over the left side of her chest she added in the common lingua franca, "and heart."

This comment left him completely speechless, he was too flummoxed to even comment on the irrationality of the heart comment. She inferred he believed the human mind to be less than optimal? That would seem to be something that should make her insulted, but she was smiling? Why?

In truth, Spock did think the human mind to be less than optimal...at least, in some ways. Clearly, most humans did not possess the same ability for rapid calculations in their heads, they were not exposed to the same breadth of knowledge as Vulcans and tended to specialize more.

He had concluded that this specialization is what made the job of teaching Xenolinguists students to be regarded as a chore by most everyone in the science department. After his first class he realized many of the students found the technical aspects of their choice of chosen career to be boring, or slightly over their heads. It took a lot of time to break down what he considered basic science into simpler terms that these students could understand. And even many diligent students who threw themselves into their work whole hardily often fell short. Spock had spent his first semester working with one particular young man nearly every day. It was obvious this student's efforts were adequate, but the results...not so much. At one point, after an hour long study session with Spock the young man had groaned and said, "Stop! Stop! My brain is full!" Spock had begun to object to the illogical nature of this statement, but then reconsidered. Perhaps the implication of the statement was correct. Pushing the young man was not increasing his retention of the subject matter, perhaps the metaphor was adept. Perhaps his brain was full...

What was more remarkable was that this student, as a xenolinguist and a xenoanatomist, was extremely talented. Spock had been surprised to learn that the young man had been instrumental in the deciphering of the language of a remote prewarp sentient species. His former student had noticed that there were patterns in the specie's audio recordings in response to known phenomena on their planet and in their solar system. From these patterns alone he was able to put together a Rosetta Stone of sorts that helped decode the rest of their language. More over, he was able from audio recordings alone to create a working model of the species vocal apparatus that upon subsequent covert planet visits turned out to be nearly identical to what was discovered in close-up medical scans.

To make up for their failings, Spock noticed, humans outsourced what they could not perform manually, or fast enough to other humans or to technology. Spock had been startled to realize that humans relied on machines for what he considered basic calculations in mathematics. Any Vulcan would have seen it as lazy. At a certain point though, Spock had realized that as the mathematics became more complex humans with their technological aides could arrive at answers at the same speed or even more quickly than Vulcans. It made Spock wonder if the output was the same, and even sometimes faster, were the inputs truly less optimal?

Humans were different, that was true.

At first he had thought that the human's in his science department were more rational and less illogical than typical. But he began to realize that was a misinterpretation. They would get extremely emotionally involved in their pursuit of logic, some of the most brilliant would have giant flashes of "insight", form huge hypothesis it seemed to him on wild speculation, then throw themselves into proving their points--often criticizing the logic of anyone who dared question their theories. Nine times out of ten they would fail...and then they'd get right back up and do it again.

It was fascinating.


	5. She's So Bubbly

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.  
**  
**She's So Bubbly**

Spock was talking to a colleague in the hall a month after Uhura's assistantship had begun, when the Cadet and an Orion friend walked by them.

Cadet Uhura, Spock had noticed, seemed to function in two modes, "work" and "non-work". She was extremely dedicated, diligent and "on task" while in class or working as his aide. She was serene, professional, almost Vulcan like. But when she was up from her console, done with her cataloging and translations it was like the flood gates opened. She smiled and laughed easily. He noticed she was often in physical contact with her fellow students when she talked to them, touching their arms, giving a hug. This morning was no exception, she was chatting in Orion to her pretty green skinned friend and breezily touching the girls arm for emphasis as they walked.

Dr. Xelom, the colleague he was talking to said under his breath as Uhura walked by, "Your assistant is certainly...bubbly."

Uhura kissed her friend goodbye on the cheek, a happy smile on her face then entered Spock's lab. Dr. Xelom continued, "Its amazing there is a brain in there. How can you two possibly get along?" Spock had noticed that as Xelom said this his eyes were following a rather intimate piece of Uhura's anatomy.

Spock generally found talking to Dr. Xelom tiring, and now was no exception. The man ostensibly lived by logic and reason, but Spock found him to be one of the most illogical humans he had ever met. He was quick to take offense at rational criticism of his research and quick to criticize the work of others in unreasonable ways.

Spock wished the conversation to end, and replied matter of factly, "Our working relationship is very satisfactory, our skills complimentary. We spend a lot of time together, and I notice no friction in our personalities. I am not sure how this conversation relates to the study of Cadet Uhura's gluteus maximus."

Dr. Xelom sputtered then hastily excused himself.

Spock headed into his lab, hands in their characteristic position behind his back. When he entered the door he found that Uhura had not taken her seat or begun her tasks as usual. She was standing at attention, staring directly at him. She had not completely switched into her "on task" demeanor, and even for a Vulcan her emotional persona was easy to read. He reflected it actually made his life easier. "Cadet, you look surprised by something."

Her words seemed to shock her into her professional demeanor. "I am surprised, Lieutenant Spock. I couldn't help but thinking you were trying to get rid of Dr. Xelom out there."

Spock moved towards one of the simulators and checked to make sure the indicator lights were all on and nothing was amiss. "I was," he replied.

She sat down, observing him. "I didn't realize you understood human behavior so well."

"So well" he replied quoting her, "is not a quantifiable expression. I am trying to understand humans better. I still don't understand the impulse for his statements. Isn't it obvious that you would be competent, otherwise I would not have hired you? Is this some roundabout human way of questioning my reason and my logic?"

"I would say so. I would also say, he doesn't like you very much."

Spock said shortly, "I am Vulcan. Popularity is not my aim."

"I know, its not your aim. But I hope your research isn't affected by him. And I'd watch your back."

Spock was finding this conversation both wildly speculative and overly familiar from a subordinate. Cadet Uhura was very helpful to him, and very skilled, but only human. He would change the subject and let it slide.

"Cadet, did you finish yesterday's translations?"

"Sending to you now Lieutenant Spock."


	6. Sleep

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

_Spock alert: If you think Spock is sweet, virginal and innocent you might want to stop right here. In TOS I think he at least one romantic liaison (it was heavily implied but not actually shown). He got back on the spaceship afterwards just as easily as Kirk ever did.  
_  
**Sleep**

From Spock's perspective all his statements to Xelom were true.

His and Uhura's skills were complimentary.

He also noticed no friction in their relationship--of course, he often didn't notice friction. He had gone through two previous assistants, both majoring in his field. They had cited "personal incompatibilities" and wished to find placements where there was a better "rapport". As Spock had never discussed anything personal with them whatsoever, he no idea that how they were able to determine that they were personally incompatible.

It was also true he and Uhura spent a lot of time together, anywhere from 20-25.5 hours a week, as he needed and/or her schedule would allow. Not all of this time was necessarily spent working. Sometimes there was free time between simulations which she would use to study, curling up on the couch at the back of the lab. Spock had not placed the couch there, it came with the lab. It was not actually in the way and didn't have any distressing, chaotic or gaudy colors (it was charcoal gray in fact) so it seemed a waste of effort to move it.

Besides his assistantship, which she took for credit, Uhura was taking three academic courses including his, participating in choir once a week and at scheduled intervals for recitals, and she maintained a physical fitness/combat training regimen three times a week as was required of cadets interested in space flight.

He kept track of all of her activities to know exactly when she would be available for his lab - it helped him run his experiments more efficiently.

So he was a bit surprised when he arrived at the lab on the 40th morning of Uhura's assistantship at 5 a.m. (as he often did) to find Uhura fast asleep on the couch. She had all hours access, so he wasn't surprised she got in. And he was familiar with the habit of students falling asleep in labs of course. Humans need more sleep than Vulcans, and Starfleet cadets were in general over scheduled and under rested-hence all labs tended to have a couch. Still, it would have been convenient if she had told him in advance she would be there. He might have had her run one more simulation before she nodded off.

She was the first assistant to fall asleep on said couch. He was a little unsure of the protocol in this situation. He sat down and swiveled a chair a few feet away from her to consider.

Should he wake her? He decided that he would not do this, if she was asleep, she probably needed the rest. She would perform her tasks better the next day if not sleepy. Also, she might startle, when he woke students in class they certainly did. He had no wish to create an uncomfortable situation.

Should he continue his experiments as planned? Turning on the lights might wake her...He decided affirmative on that. The lab's primary function was a lab, after all.

These questions settled Spock took a moment to indulge in just looking at her. He always thought she was very beautiful with her warm copper skin and black hair--and it had been a while since he had watched a human female sleep in an a manner that gave him the time and privacy to observe. Uhura was curled up on the couch, head resting on her PADD, hair still tightly pulled back, ear buds in place. She had a short jacket thrown over her shoulders and she looked a bit cold. She was wearing the standard short skirt Starfleet uniform with black hose. Her black boots were still on. Spock had heard many of the female instructors complain about the uniform, but from his current view point it did have its advantages.

There were rumors around campus that he was some sort of eunuch. He knew this, the pointy ears weren't just ornamental. These rumors were not true, although they did create a convenient camouflage for his personal activities when he'd had some.

He noticed Terran women, and Vulcan and Orion women for that matter too (Although Orion female's pheromones may have been useless on him, he could still appreciate their appearance). Unlike full blooded Vulcan's his attention was more constant--but unlike them he had as yet so far to undergo the effects that marked Pon Farr.

He'd come to see his less frenzied, but more constant human desire an advantage. In one sense it was something that he had more control over than his Vulcan brethren, and he had no shame about it. Desire was not something illogical or logical, it was simply natural. But Vulcans were private about such things and as a rule didn't discuss it. Nor would he ever make someone uncomfortable by staring at them in an inappropriate way. But Uhura was sound asleep, and observing her would do no harm.

So he sat watching her for exactly 30.5 seconds after he'd found her. He took in the curve of her waist as it met her hip. And followed her long legs from her boots to the shadows beneath the fall of her skirt.

Then he filed away the image for reflection later and moved to the front of the lab to begin his work. But he kept the lights down low.

At exactly 6:30 a.m. Cadet Uhura, raised her head and suddenly sat bolt upright. "Lieutenant Spock. I didn't know you arrived so early."

Spock looked up from where he was working. She looked dazed and disoriented, what was the protocol in these situations? "I don't need much sleep. At ease."

She wiped her face with her hands, "I'm sorry," she said, "Did I bother you?"

"No, you did not interfere with my work at all." He said turning back to what he was doing, "I only wish I'd known you'd be here last night, I'd have scheduled one more simulation to run. But perhaps this was an unscheduled incident?"

She looked at him, sitting now jacket in front of her.

"It wasn't exactly unscheduled," she said. She sighed and rubbed her temples. "Every twenty days I sleep outside the dorm. My roommate is Orion...this was a lot more comfortable than the chair in the library." She paused and added, "And it felt more secure."

Spock looked at her with understanding, "Indeed. Perhaps though you should report her to the head of the dormitory and find a more suitable roommate?"

Uhura suddenly seemed to wake up, "Oh, no, she is a great roommate. She is smart, and funny, I get fantastic practice in Orion. And she is warm and affectionate--the Orions are more like people are where I come from, with the obvious exception of, you know."

Spock nodded, he and the entire galaxy knew about Orions.

Uhura continued, "You probably find people here in San Francisco to be terribly demonstrative and physical. But compared to Africa, people here are actually very cold. Where I am from you greet all your friends and acquaintances with a bone crushing hug, or at least a hand shake coupled with a squeeze on the shoulder--and usually a peck on the cheek. I actually find the lack of emotional warmth here in San Francisco a little stressful sometimes...Its nice to go home and get a friendly hug when I need one."

"I see," Spock said, not really seeing, but accepting it as out of his culture and deciding to take her word for it.

"What I'm saying is, I hope you won't report her. She is what she is, and I don't mind bending a little bit."

"I would not report her in any case...but especially not if you feel she improves your psychological well-being. Should I plan on you being here every twenty days then?"

Uhura stood up and straightened her clothes, "Yes, this is a lot better than the library..."

"Good, I'll revise my simulation schedules. Oh, and Cadet Uhura,"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"You might want to keep a pillow and a blanket or two in the cabinet in the back. You looked cold."


	7. Breakdown

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

_Spock alert: If you think Spock is sweet, virginal and innocent you REALLY might want to stop right here._

**Breakdown**

For 170 days after that incident Spock and Uhura maintained what Spock regarded as a very successful professional relationship. Both went about their tasks in the lab in a way that he regarded as most satisfactory--that is they didn't talk much and they stayed out of each others way. His research surged ahead of schedule.

On day 171 everything changed.

Meditating on it later, Spock realized it probably wasn't one little thing, but a whole host of things which caused him to have a stunning lapse of judgment and control.

It was exactly seven days after spring final exams. Spock had given Uhura the week of exams off on the condition that she make up the time in the week after. They'd spent the whole week in close proximity, but that wasn't the cause of the lapse. In fact Spock hardly thought he'd noticed.

On the evening before day 171 Uhura had taken refuge from the activities of her Orion roommate and spent the night in the lab. Spock had indulged in his usual 30.5 seconds of admiring her while she slept. She had taken him up on the advice to keep a blanket and a pillow, so his admiration was a bit more confined, but still...

Of course this had happened many times before, so that really wasn't the cause.

The real trouble started at 3 pm in the afternoon on Uhura's last day before leaving to visit her family for two weeks. There was a power surge in the department and one of his subspace transmitters blew a fuse in the midst of a simulation. Spock immediately called maintenance to get help, and was told he would have to wait approximately 3.5 days before anyone could be there to fix it.

Spock pondered the newly non-functional large rectangular black box with the emitter array at the center. It was about 1 meter tall, and three quarters of a meter wide in both directions. It was too heavy to lift without assistance. "Can you fix it Lieutenant?" Uhura asked him.

"Internal diagnostics show that the fuse in question is underneath, a shocking flaw in the design. Not to mention, why didn't the surge protector mediate the power surge?"

Uhura, looked at the transmitter, "It is really old. You know, I've become pretty close to the other aides in the labs. These things happen--most of them keep tools around so they don't have to rely on the maintenance union. If you think you can fix it I can probably get them to loan us their gear."

"That sounds much preferable to waiting three days. Lets go."

If Uhura had gone alone to pick up the tools, she might have come back with several male assistants in tow, eager to show off their skills in electronic repair. But the male aids on seeing Spock blanched a little – he'd been told that working under his supervision had a tendency to make cadets nervous. They quickly handed over the tools Spock would need, but didn't offer to give any assistance.

So Spock was left to fix it himself with Uhura's help -- which he thought would be minimal. As talented a linguist as she was, she was definitely not experienced with hardware and seemed to have no natural inclination for it either.

Jacking up the signal transmitter he found that the board with the damaged fuse actually came out fairly easily -- there were just a few clips to disengage and two wires to disconnect. He was able to pull the board out from underneath and do the repair at his work station.

It was putting it back that proved to be the problem. The wires that had disengaged so easily when he'd taken out the electrical board did not slip as easily back into place. Laying on his back underneath the transmitter he was trying to hold up the part and slip his fingers around the board itself to engage the wires above…all while holding small flashlight in his mouth. It wasn't working.

"Cadet Uhura," he called, "Would you come under here and hold the flashlight."

In only a few seconds she had joined him underneath the heavy black box. Her small frame was just inches away from his and he was suddenly acutely aware that it had been a long time since he'd been physically intimate with a human female; he studiously did not count the days, or was it years now?

Feeling a twinge of annoyance at her for making him cognizant of this he did his best not to show it. It wasn't logical to lay the blame for his discomfort on something beyond her control.

"Hold it this way Cadet, no more to the left, more to the right. Okay, yes there." He moved his fingers around the board...and failed to connect any of the wires.

He saw Uhura lick her lips out of the corner of his eye as if preparing to say something, and he stifled more irritation. Did humans have to be so expressive? "Lieutenant, my hands are smaller, I think I can reattach the wires."

Since he was getting nowhere there was only one logical response, "By all means, Cadet, make an attempt."

"Here, hold the flashlight," she replied her small finger tips grazing his own as she placed it in his hands.

Spock wasn't a particularly strong contact telepath, but fingertip to fingertip touch was enough even for him to receive a flash of her physiological state and emotions. Particularly her most immediate emotion. She was as cognizant of their close proximity as he was -- but she was not at all annoyed, in fact...He felt himself flush. Couldn't humans keep these things to themselves?

"I think I've got the first wire connected," she said smiling and looking side ways at him. He managed to nod for her to continue. He was in a very uncomfortable state of being both aroused and annoyed simultaneously -- and of course betrayed neither.

She slid her hands around the board to the next wire. The light was useless to her now, the connection she needed to make was completely hidden by the board itself, she would have to finish the task by touch alone. Flashlight unneeded now Spock could move but instead just watched her as she closed her eyes and concentrated, her tongue flicking lightly on her lips.

"Got it!" She said opening her eyes and turned her head to flash him a brilliant smile. He glared at her with one lifted eyebrow for just a few seconds too long, and then ran his hands around all the clips to make sure the board was secure.

"Let us begin the diagnostics," was all he said.

Once the diagnostic tests proved their repair job to be a success, they began making up for lost time.

At 7 PM Commander Sharpton came in. "You're still here," she said. It wasn't a question and Spock wasn't certain how to respond to rhetorical comments. Both he and Uhura were engaged in a critical point of preparing the next simulation, they couldn't come to attention but Uhura responded, "Good evening, Commander. Yes, the signal transmitter blew a fuse and we lost some time fixing it, but we're almost caught up now."

Sharpton smiled at her, "Aren't you supposed to be in Africa?"

"Tomorrow," Uhura replied, "I already packed--staying a little later isn't going to do me any harm."

The Commander looked back at Spock, "I noticed that you've been moving ahead of schedule over the last few months. How did that happen?"

Spock replied quite honestly, barely looking up from his console, "Cadet Uhura has proved most efficient at cataloging and organizing data, and she has helped run simulations on occasions I am not available. I am ahead of schedule and will be finishing and submitting my paper for review before the end of the summer recess."

"That's impressive," said Doris, more to Uhura than to Spock. Then she turned to the Vulcan and said, "Let's talk," and she strode into his office without a backward glance. Spock pushed a final button and followed her.

As soon as they were alone and out of earshot Commander Sharpton turned and looked at him, "Lieutenant, it is often customary to show appreciations for assistants by providing them with a meal occasionally, and especially after a job well done or on their last day."

Spock blinked, "I am sure that Cadet Uhura would prefer to spend tonight resting up for her trip tomorrow."

The Commander looked at him and sighed, "Spock, she is the only assistant that you've managed to keep...and she's put you over two months ahead of schedule. Try to keep her. Ask her out to dinner, or a drink, or something."

"Well, if it is customary..." Spock had said.

Doris rolled her eyes and walked out of the office. She turned briefly to the Cadet as she strode out of the room and said, "Have a nice break, Uhura."

"Thank you, Commander," Uhura replied, but the Doris was already out the door and down the hall.

Spock followed her out of the office and watched her leave the lab, then he turned to Uhura and said in his normal clipped tone, "Cadet, would you like to get something to eat?"

Vulcan's try not to let tiny irritations get them down, nonetheless he was a trifle annoyed when Uhura responded immediately and enthusiastically. "Yes! That would be great!" He had wanted to start writing his paper that evening.

All the campus facilities were closed, and the nearby bars that served food were packed due to a soccer match between Earth and Mars Colony 2, so Spock took Uhura to a Thai place he was familiar with near his apartment--it was clean, the service had always been respectable, and the menu offered him more than French fries.

He hadn't meant to, but he managed to impress Uhura overly much with his choice. "It's beautiful," she declared. "The traditional furniture and art is so lovely. And the food is wonderful. I'm so glad we're not just getting beer and pizza."

Spock made a mental note that this comment probably meant beer and pizza would be more appropriate for these sorts of occasions.

The conversation wasn't too painful. She maintained her professional demeanor, and the food provided a safe topic for discussion. Uhura asked him about the Earth cuisines he'd tried, and what places he'd visited. Spock did his best not to be to curt when she asked him questions, and to ask all the polite questions he thought were appropriate about her courses, her family and upcoming vacation.

And then just as they were leaving the restaurant the game got out. Trying to avoid the packed street Spock took her wrist and guided her towards an alley he often used to avoid crowds. This was acceptable physical contact as it served to keep them from being separated. He dropped said wrist discreetly once they were out of the herd's way.

The alternate route was the next circumstance that Spock might have believed fate had contrived specifically against him--if he'd been a full human of the sort that believed in this sort of thing.

They'd only walked about half a block when three rough looking humans stepped out of door in front of them. It was evident they were inebriated, and had probably just finished watching the game. They saw Uhura, and began to whistle. And then they noticed Spock, or rather, then they noticed Spock wasn't human. The taunts began immediately.

"Hey, look, she's got herself a pointy eared Martian."

"Hey honey, didn't you know, we just beat the Martian's 3-0."

"...Yeah, what are you doing with this pointy eared loser."

After enduring a childhood of similar taunts Spock did not like to reward tormentors with an emotional response. He kept walking forward, hands now behind his back, Uhura marched right next to him, head held high, matching his steps exactly. That was commendable, but after mentally calculating the odds that there would be physical conflict he held up an arm and pushed her back a step. He didn't want her in the way. As a human female who weighed maybe 46 kg and stood less than 162.56 cm tall he didn't think she'd be much help--nor did he think he'd need it. As way as explanation he said, "There are only three of them, and they are also very inebriated."

They were now less than five feet from the trio and of course this comment was overheard.

"Only three of us? Only three of us pointy ears? Can't you count? Three is more than two and I don't think your girlie is going to do you much good in this fight."

At this point Spock felt Uhura start to move forward, but Spock stops her by saying calmly, "Cadet, we want to make sure if and when we fight it is only in self defense."

"Oh, so you want a chance to defend yourselves," the largest of the trio said. "I can give you that."

And then without preamble he aimed a fist at Spock's jaw. Spock stepped out of the way, but let the blow graze him just a bit on the mouth. He tasted a little blood and knew there would be swelling. He felt immensely relieved that force was now justified. With one blow to the chin he knocked the first man out cold. At seeing his friend go down one of the other members of the trio rushed forward. Spock grabbed one of the on-rushing man's arms, neatly stepped aside and used the man's own momentum to spin him around. He had the would-be assailant's back pressed against his chest and his arm in an armlock. Spock briefly considered letting him go, but delivered a Vulcan nerve pinch instead. He really had no desire to draw this out.

The third man had been hooting for his buddies, but after watching the second member of his group go down he abruptly went silent. Then he threw up.

Spock put his arms behind his back and looked back at Uhura. Her face did not show any fear, only surprise mixed with wonder. "I'm sorry," she said, "That happened so fast, I wasn't any help."

Spock still wasn't sure how someone so petite could have been much assistance, but he decided not to point that out. Instead he said, "That is quite alright. As I said, there were only three of them, and they were quite inebriated. Let us leave. The smell here is rapidly getting more unpleasant." He stepped over the two men on the ground, avoiding the third still retching companion.

"Right." Uhura said following after him. As she caught up with his stride she said, "He hit you."

"I am aware of that, Cadet." Spock replied. Why did humans insist on stating the obvious? His outward demeanor hadn't changed but he could feel his heart beating faster, and the taste of adrenaline mixed with the blood in his mouth. He would like the opportunity to sit down and meditate, physiology he knew could overcome psychology and he might wind up behaving irrationally.

Then Uhura spoke again, "Don't you think you should put some ice on that?"

"That is not necessary, Cadet."

"Lieutenant, I really think we should put some ice on it."

"I'll be fine," he replied not breaking his stride.

"Please," she implored, "Wouldn't you like to just sit down for a moment and relax? Maybe there is someplace around here where we could get an ice pack..."

She placed a hand on his arm and Spock stopped short, then looked at her and watched with an odd sort of detachment as she moved her hand tentatively up as though to touch his face. He could hear her heart beating rapidly, and see a faint flush spread on her cheeks.

Then he made another mistake. Almost unconsciously he raised his own hand to move her offending hand to the side. He should have grabbed her wrist, but instead he lifted his open palm and touched her fingertips against his own, he'd wonder later if it were a Freudian slip of sorts. He moved her hand away with a bit of a scowl, but the damage was done. He felt genuine concern, but it was laced with the physical desire he'd felt earlier.

And then logic betrayed him. It was _logical _to sit down for a minute, get his own rushing blood under control. A swollen lip was painful. It was _logical_ to take steps to avoid additional pain. And even if he was very attracted to the young human female in front of him and she was attracted to him it didn't _logically_ follow that anything would come of it -- in fact that assumption was expressly_ illogical_, the "slippery slope" fallacy -- there was a Latin word for it, but it escaped him at that moment. And suddenly there was no internal conflict.

"It would be good to sit down and meditate for a few minutes. And an ice pack would be useful. My quarters are close by; we can stop by just for a moment."

They went up to his apartment. She commented that she was surprised he lived off campus, and he said something about liking the privacy that living off campus provided and the access to better food -- she laughed at that which made her even prettier, but of course he hadn't been joking, just stating the facts. Then when they entered his door and slipped of their shoes, she told him to sit down she'd get the ice. He sat gratefully down at one corner of his couch and tried to take stock of himself. He found himself wondering how she could know her way around his kitchen without being given a formal tour, but she came back in just a few minutes with an ice pack. It made him wonder if Vulcans and humans arranged their kitchens in similar fashions due to some convergent evolution.

She sat down beside him, slightly at an angle and very tenderly dabbed his lip with a cloth, "You're bleeding a little bit," she explained. There was he realized, no regulation against a student dabbing blood away from an instructors lips. And she was completely unfazed by emerald blood. That was appreciated. Then she gently held up the ice pack and pressed it to his swollen mouth and it was _logical_ to take her wrist and use it to guide her hand to exactly where it should be, and if he gently began stroking her wrists there wasn't any specific regulation against that. Granted, it would be against the Vulcan code of conduct but he wasn't on Vulcan, was only half Vulcan, he was unbound, and no Vulcans were watching...

And then all rational thought broke down. The part of him that felt desire as acutely as any human 26 year old male had grabbed hold of the strings of logic and used it against him, and then when he needed logic that same part of him let go of the strings of reason completely.

He pulled her wrists down from his face, and pressed his forehead against hers. His Vulcan ears could detect her elevated heart beat -- or maybe it was his. He kissed her very gently and she responded, equally gentle, a little bit timid. He brought his hands up to her face and stroked her cheeks -- but not with his fingertips, with the back of his hands. The kiss ended, too quickly for him. She pressed her forehead against his. Was she hesitating? That was not how it was supposed to go. Maybe he was supposed to say something?

And here he made what he wasn't sure was the worst choice of the day, or oddly the best. He turned the palm of one his hands around and touched her forehead with two fingertips. He couldn't say he wanted her with words, but he could show her in ways that had worked before. It wasn't a mind meld. Nothing as drastic as that, more of a mind touch. He let his _want _slip through his fingers into her mind. She moaned and he let his free hand drop to her waist and pull her onto his lap. She let him guide her without protest.

He took his fingertips away and she seemed to stiffen, so he flicked them back to her temple. Her body went soft again, she sighed a little and kissed him deeply and eagerly...and then did something Spock hadn't expected from a human. Her mind reached back through that connection in his fingertips, he could feel her surveying his lust and felt her own build. This was unexpected and very, very good, Spock pulled her closer and kissed her harder. She responded with her body and her mind, physically she was pushing more closely against him, mentally she was looking for something, but he couldn't discern what it was, the connection wasn't deep enough.

And then suddenly Spock felt her realize that whatever she was looking for wasn't there. And it hurt her and her pain hurt Spock too.

Her body stiffened, she turned cold and the coldness spread from her to him through his fingers. It was like a bucket of ice water had been dropped over them both. Their lips and arms disengaged, she started to tremble and awkwardly pulled herself away to the other corner of the couch. She pulled her feet underneath her, and wrapped her arms around herself, but there were no tears in her eyes.

Spock tried to assess her emotional condition, a task he wholly unqualified for he realized. She didn't look angry, only a little sad he thought. He didn't know what to say, he only tilted his head in her direction.

Finally, she broke the silence, "I am an abstraction to you...a pretty human girl who works in your lab. You have no feelings for me at all." Her words were spoken completely without emotion.

A/N:

_If you read and enjoyed this please review! It is the only way Fan Fiction writers get paid. It has been a long time since I wrote this story, and reviews now are almost sweeter when it was first written…it is nice to know that people are still reading it and that it hasn't just vanished into the nether world of the intertubes_.


	8. Absolution

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

Absolution

After a few moments of silence she put her hands over her face and groaned, "What was I thinking looking for emotion from a Vulcan? I can't believe I was so stupid!"

At last here was a comment Spock felt qualified to respond to. "I hardly think you have a monopoly on poor judgment this evening."

She looked at him and he was surprised to see a slight smile on her face, "Don't worry, Lieutenant, I won't report you. Please don't mention my untoward advances in your grade report."

"That will not happen, Cadet. I already turned your grades in."

They were both completely silent for several minutes.

"Lieutenant," she said finally, "Do you think the crowds are gone outside now?"

Spock got up and went to the window, "They appear to have dispersed."

"Would you please walk me home? I don't want to take a shuttle, I think I really would like some air."

He tilted his head. He was aware he had hurt her, and as his head cleared his own fault in the situation was weighing on him. It seemed appropriate to give her some new deference. "Of course, Cadet."

They both walked looking straight ahead. Spock's hands behind his back. Uhura's arms wrapped around herself. Their pace back to Starfleet was slow, and their path wasn't straight or logical, but after the events of the evening Spock didn't feel it was appropriate to point out any logical failings. The conversation also wandered in directions Spock was not comfortable with, but he felt compelled to participate.

"So that time you cut down Xelium for essentially calling me an empty headed ninny and staring at my butt, there was no protective chivalry there?" Uhura asked.

"I just found his comments illogical, I wished him to depart."

"Your comments about me to Commander Sharpton..."

"Were simply the facts."

"Protecting me in the alley?" she asked.

"I would have done it for anyone," he responded.

"The romantic Thai restaurant?"

"It was romantic?"

Uhura laughed softly. "I guess someone who isn't romantic wouldn't have noticed." Then she continued, "And all those times you'd look over me when I slept?"

Spock blinked in surprise, "I was not aware you noticed that. You are aesthetically pleasing. I was merely appreciating."

"Ahhh....honest lust," Uhura said.

She was silent for a few minutes. "When you reached out and bumped against my mind, was that a mind meld?"

"No," said Spock. "A mind meld is much more intense--and dangerous. We are contact telepaths. It's almost difficult not to over hear or transmit thoughts when our fingertips touch a temple or a hand."

She was silent for a few moments, then she said with a flash of understanding, "So when we were under the transmitter, and our fingers touched, you knew what I was thinking."

"Not your thoughts precisely, no, but your physiological state was...apparent," Spock replied, beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable at the memory.

"I'm sorry," said Uhura.

"There is no need to apologize," replied Spock.

Uhura was silent for a few minutes. "It was very powerful," and here she looked at him slyly, "...the mind bump. But then I had this feeling it was a calculated move. You've done that before to other Terran girls haven't you?"

"Yes."

"Not other students?" Uhura asked, her voice suddenly worried.

Spock himself was startled by the question, "Normally I'd find that question out of line." He almost sighed, "but after my actions tonight it seems fair and reasonable." He paused, "No, no other students."

"You didn't feel anything for the other Terrans either, did you?" she asked, with just a touch of sadness in her voice.

"I appreciated the physical release. There were also some intelligent and stimulating conversations..."

"But you didn't care when they were gone."

"I wasn't bonded. Without a physical relationship I find I have a lot more time to devote to work, it makes my life easier. Which is why I haven't pursued anything more in a long time."

"And they liked the mind bump?"

"It had a decidedly different outcome in previous situations. You were the first to bump back."

Uhura sighed, "What can I say, I've been trying to get into alien minds my whole life."

A sudden thought hit Spock, "So were our experiences tonight an experiment?" He asked out of pure intellectual curiosity, he felt no anger or sadness.

She scowled a little and then said slowly, "I hadn't really thought of that. Maybe a little bit...I'm sorry. You do have other appealing qualities beyond your pointy ears you know." But she didn't elaborate.

They walked in silence for a long time. Then Uhura spoke, "Lieutenant Spock, would you mind keeping me on as your assistant after the summer break?"

The question hadn't even arisen in Spock's mind, but now that she asked he wasn't sure if there was some protocol for these situations. Since he knew no protocol he decided that logically weighing the options was the best solution; he deduced this knowing quite well his own logic's recent sabotage of his better judgment.

Cadet Uhura would doubtlessly help him maintain his accelerated pace. And after feeling the coldness in her mind as they broke their embrace he didn't think he would be unduly tempted again.

"I think you would be very valuable in my continuing research, Cadet. You are welcome to stay on."

She smiled, "Thank you. I find your research very interesting. And I've come to understand the hardware as well as the theory behind subspace and non-subspace transmissions much better since working for you. Our Xenolinguist requirements seems woefully inadequate when it comes to understanding subspace signals--we really should have more experience in the practical and theoretical underpinnings of something that effects our discipline so much."

Spock raised an eyebrow in surprise, "I agree completely. I was not aware that you or any of your fellow students felt that way. Mostly all I hear is grumblings about the class."

"We grumble because its difficult. It is outside our comfort level. That doesn't mean we shouldn't know more. If I stay on as your assistant it will greatly increase my chances of getting a position aboard my starship."

"Your starship?" Spock asked genuinely confused.

"The Enterprise. She'll be done by the time I graduate. She will be the best ship in the fleet, and she'll only get the best personnel. My Xenolinguist skills are top notch, but I'll be green. If I have experience with the hardware and physics of subspace signal transmitters and other frequency receiving devices I will really stand out--I'll have a shot."

The sun was rising now and they were approaching the Golden Gate Bridge and the lawn of the Starfleet Academy campus. For a few more minutes they said nothing, then Spock broke the silence. He was troubled by the telepathic touch he'd used earlier. It had hurt her and he was beginning to think it may have been unethical, he needed to acknowledge that he had done something wrong.

"Cadet Uhura, earlier tonight, when we touched minds if you felt manipulated, I apologize. And I am sorry that my lack of," he paused looking for an appropriate word, "my lack of affection hurt you."

Uhura stopped walking, and he too stopped and turned towards her. She looked up at him and her face was more serene than he'd ever seen it. "It's alright. In a way it was one of the most honest attempts at seduction I've ever received. And...you should never have to feel ashamed or guilty for what you feel, or what you don't feel." She shrugged her shoulders after she spoke and neither of them moved for a few minutes.

Spock in fact couldn't move. Something washed through him at that moment when she said those last few words.

Among Vulcans, his own father included, he was made to feel as though his emotions were undesirable, and shameful. Not intentionally of course. Vulcan's have feelings and acknowledge them inwardly, but don't express them outwardly. Spock's more human less Vulcan control over his emotions had resulted in outward displays of feeling--and the end result was shame over the emotions that prompted this lack of control.

From his mother he'd always received positive acknowledgment of his emotions, but there was pressure there too. Sometimes he simply did not have the feelings she expected him to have. He really was not upset when he did not hear from her or his father for months on end. He loved them both, but he didn't precisely miss them. He did not need to hear his mother tell him she loved him, or for her to tell him that his father loved him. He knew these things.

The small human rituals of empathy and understanding that his mother always wanted, and now his human colleagues expected, were confusing and frustrating to him simply because he could not feel the motivations for these rituals.

And now here was Cadet Uhura, who he had hurt with his lack of emotion, telling him it was alright to feel and _not _to feel. What had she said about her Orion roomate? She is what she is. Uhura accepted Orions and half human half Vulcans trying to come to terms with their identities for what they were, not out of some human construct of what she thought they should be.

It was an absolution for Spock, and he loved her for it instantly.

He regained control of his movements and acknowledged this sudden outpouring of feeling by inclining his head.

"I'm fine on my own from here," Uhura said, breaking his reverie.

"I will see you in two weeks then," Spock responded. She turned and made her way across the lawn, now sparkling in the sunlight with dew. He watched her until she disappeared into a building he supposed was a dorm.

As he turned to make his way home he considered that he would need to meditate quite a while on the ramifications of the evening. In the meantime he thought he might as well get to work on his paper.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------_  
Authors Note: Something I was telling a reviewer, Spock is in his own way a masculine archetype (man the logical, intense passions deeply suppressed). One thing my mother always told me, and what I've experienced is that men, when they do fall in love fall faster and harder than women do. A friend with a Ph.D. in psychology has confirmed this. She also has told me men fall out of love more slowly than women. So if you think his turn around was too quick...well...all I will say is I'm sorry._

God bless the Y chromosome.  



	9. Starting Over

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.  
**

_Very short update. The next few chapters go together, but this little tiny one is important._

**Starting Over**

The good thing about having a well defined professional relationship without the burdens of emotional conversations is that it is very easy to slip back into. When Uhura came back all their routines were the same. Uhura was her same professional, cool self. If she felt any discomfort over what had happened she did not show it.

The problem for Spock was this professional distance was no longer was adequate. He was cognizant his feelings for the Cadet had changed. He thought perhaps they could be channeled into friendship. This seemed the most logical choice and desirable on many levels. At Starfleet it was completely acceptable for a cadet to have a superior officer as a close friend and mentor. And among Vulcan's an association of mentor and friend was also acceptable, even encouraged.

And perhaps it would justify spending more time with her, preferably outside the lab. He did not wish anything to detract from the progress of his research.

He didn't completely know how to go about initiating this change between them. He made small gestures.

As Uhura started to leave on her first day back he looked up from the console he was working at and suddenly remembered there was a human nicety he has forgotten.

"Cadet," he says, "I think I was supposed to ask you how your trip went?"

She paused looking puzzled and then smiled, "It would be considered a polite question, but not obligatory."

"How was your trip?"

"It was fine."

"Good."

They both looked at each other for a moment, then Uhura nodded and turned to go. He turned back to his console.

He also made a gesture that was not so small for an efficiency minded Vulcan. On her fifth day back he realized that she would be spending the night in the library. He knew that this was uncomfortable for her, and he was uncomfortable knowing that was not the most secure sleeping arrangement. Also he suspected she wouldn't be as productive if she had a bad nights sleep -- the practical and the emotional are not mutually exclusive.

He rearranged his schedule and let it be known that he won't be in the lab until 7:30 the next day (she was always out the door by 6:45). The lab would be all hers if she'd like to spend the night there.

When he let her know this she gave him a confused look and then said, "You're afraid a stiff neck will hamper my productivity aren't you?"

This wasn't his whole intent, but true enough. "Indeed," he said, raising an eyebrow.

The next morning when he arrived the lab was empty. He was not sure if she has been there, but found himself inexplicably looking at the empty couch for exactly 30.5 seconds.


	10. Flashes of Light

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

_If you look back at the timeline, you'll see we're not near where they get in trouble yet...they need to grow up and get to know each other a little bit first._**  
**

**Flashes of Light**

It was a change in their professional relationship that finally offered Spock the opportunity to change their personal relationship.

Spock and Cadet Uhura were in the lab calibrating equipment for the next phase of research. They had translated enough subspace signatures of known sentient languages to move on to Phase II of his project, the practical application. He needed to develop equations to strip natural occurring subspace noise (the solar gossip as Uhura called it) from sentient chatter.

To do this he needed to work backwards. He goal was to take sentient subspace signals and generate in simulation mode what that pure signal would look like without the interference of natural noise. Then he planned to take live radio signals that would be affected by this sentient subspace message and create a map of all the subspace signals natural and sentient in origin. Where there was overlap he planned to strip out the data, and use the remainder to generate his equations.

The morning on the tenth day after the Cadet's return the two of them were sitting in front of a 3D monitor. Spock touched the console and suddenly blue dots of light sprung up before them.

It had come to his attention that Uhura had to be re-evaluated for fluency every semester in order to avoid taking her prerequisite language courses, and she had admitted to him that in humans disuse of a language, even a native language, could lead to a decline in proficiency. So they had begun speaking xenolanguages around the lab. It was a mental game that Spock found quite stimulating. He also found he could easily justify it as Uhura would be monitoring all of the subspace signals they would be using in simulation--he needed her skills to be sharp.

It was for this reason that he began his explanation of the hologram in the harsh guttural tongue of Klingon, "_These blue dots represent the simulation of a pure signal of an Andorian newscast sent to Lixing 5 on a day without any significant solar activity._"

He touched the console again and a sea of green dots emerged before them and the blue disappeared, in place of the blue was now bright white light.

He continued, _"Where you see the green and white, that is what we get when we generate a map of subspace signals from radio frequencies. The green are the natural occurring signals, the white illuminates where the green and blue have overlapped and delineates the sentient signal. Notice there is no more blue in this hologram. If there was we would know that the live signals did not correspond to the simulated signals and we had failed in our experiment."_

Sliding over in his chair he quickly touched another console. Another hologram of blue shot up. He touched another button and the hologram turned to green and yellow again, but here the green dots were so thick they looked like pure green light. _"This is a hologram of a signal received during a solar flare. Notice the density of the natural signals. You see the blue dots again have completely disappeared here as well."_

_"This visual display of the data is worthy of awe," _Uhura commented.

Spock considered her choice of words. She was saying the display of data was beautiful, but the Klingon equivalent of 'beautiful' pertained only to members of the opposite sex and weaponry. Her choice of 'worthy of awe' fitted the context of their discussion perfectly. He nodded his head. _"Acknowledged."_ The Klingon word was harsh, but he noted had connotations of both "Thank you" and "I agree".

_"I have a question that does not pertain directly to the current objective."_

_"Proceed."_

_"I was not aware that Vulcans would want or require visual representations of mathematical information. Or that they would conceive of such abstractions as worthy of awe."_

He considered the question, it was off topic, but insightful. He choose to respond, _"Vulcans do not need the visual representation, but it is often faster, even for us, to quickly understand data that has been rendered visually." _He continued, _"Effective visual representations increases comprehension and efficiency, that alone is worthy of awe."_

_"Acknowledged. That is a fascinating insight into Vulcan culture."_ She continued, _"A short observation that does not pertain to the current objective."_

_"Very well."_

_"The delicacy of our discussion does not fit this tongue. It sounds as though we are engaged in verbal combat." _ She said knitting her eyebrows together a bit in her effort to form the harsh words.

_"True."_

At that moment Commander Sharpton, Lieutenant-Commander O'Hara and Professor Xelium walked in. Uhura and Spock stood up at attention.

"Ah, I see we have interrupted a lovers quarrel," Xelium said dryly.

Spock raised an eyebrow and shot back equally dryly, "Today we are speaking Klingon."

This earned Spock a glare from Xelium he could not comprehend. O'Hara seemed to be stifling a laugh. One side of Commander Sharpton's lips tweaked upwards.

Xelium turned and continued as though Spock wasn't even in the room, "You know he'll have half the audience asleep before he even steps onto the podium." He nodded once to Doris and O'Hara and then left the room.

Doris turned to Spock. "Lieutenant Spock, you're presenting at the Subspace Physics Symposium Starfleet is hosting two weeks from now. Commander Choi had to cancel. Your recent paper has been so well received that you were selected to replace him. Some people have hurt feelings...and not just Xelium. Don't let me down. O'Hara fill him in on the details." And then she was gone too.

Spock looked at O'Hara, and asked with a straight face, "What did Professor Xelium mean when he said that half the audience would fall asleep?"

Uhura looked down at her feet. O'Hara scratched the back of his neck, and flushed a bit before responding, "Most humans have a preconceived notion of Vulcans presentations as...dry. There may be some who have a certain Pavlovian response to seeing a Vulcan step up to the podium..."

Spock didn't even blink. "What are the technical specifics of the presentation?"

After O'Hara supplied Spock with all the technical information the Lieutenant-Commander very gently asked the Vulcan, "I know you probably can't show any passion for your subject matter in your presentation, but I guess there isn't any chance you could...lighten it up a bit?"

Spock only raised an eyebrow.

As soon as he left Spock said in a short clipped tone without looking at the Cadet, "The numbers should speak for themselves. I do not understand this human desire to interject feeling into something that has nothing to do with emotion. Nor do I understand the need for constant entertainment."

"May I offer an obervation Lieutenant?"

"By all means, Cadet," he responded, still looking out the door O'Hara had just exited.

Uhura was still standing at attention, her gaze was fixed on a point on the wall straight ahead. She took a deep breath and began slowly, "I've actually thought the respect for feeling in matters of logic as evolutionary. Humans are not telepathic like Vulcans. I know that you aren't telepathically bound to all your fellow Vulcans, but you are to some, correct? Friends? Spouses? Parents maybe? Your literature isn't entirely clear. With your closest associates you don't need to _show_ feeling to let them know they are important, or that _something _is important, your telepathic connections make it possible for them just to_ know_."

"Maybe you've lost the need to communicate feelings verbally for anything because the most important people in your lives don't _need _to be told. I know, I know, you gave up the outward displays of emotion voluntarily due to the teachings of Surak. But maybe it is Vulcan biology of telepathy that _allowed_ this philosophy to take root. Or maybe it is Vulcan biology that _caused_ Surak's philosophies to take root."

"Cadet, I fail to see how questioning the central ethos of my people has anything to with this discussion," he said it calmly and cooly, but her statements were very nearly blasphemy.

Up until now her voice had been cool detached, and studied professional. Now she turned her head to look him directly in the eyes, her jaw clenched, and the next words came out almost a whisper, "That is because I'm not finished yet."

She was furious, even Spock could see it. He found it oddly fascinating. Of course if she had not reached the crux of her argument he needed to hear her out.

"Proceed, then," he replied.

"Maybe human's don't follow Surak's teachings because ultimately we _can't._ We have to over communicate our internal emotional landscapes, not just to those closest to us, but to _everyone._

"And to be receptive to the emotions of others we've developed empathy, to the point where in the course of ordinary personal interactions we _can't shut it off_. If a speaker shows no feeling our natural, empathetic reaction is to believe they have no feelings for the subject matter. And if the speaker has no emotion for their subject matter our natural biological reaction is to deduce the subject is not important to us."

Uhura had almost, not quite shouted these last few lines. But then she composed herself again and said in a softer more controlled voice, "You may think it inferior, and it may or may not be. But that doesn't change the fact that it just is."

Her eyes were boring into his. He didn't flinch. What she had just proposed was unorthodox, but it was internally consistent, it was novel, and she'd managed to turn emotions into something almost logical. Yes, there were reasons he felt the way he did about her.

And he suddenly realized she was also, in a very intellectual way, touching on a very personal subject. She let Vulcans be Vulcans even if it hurt a bit, she was telling him to let humans be humans, with all their irrationalities.

He couldn't quite bring himself to acknowledge this subtext out loud. Instead he said, "Cadet, your analysis fails to consider we accepted the teachings of Surak because we had to. But you pose some interesting, if not easily proven, hypothesis."

He suddenly could not stand to see her standing at attention. He moved back to the chair he was sitting on earlier, and said, "Please, sit down." She obliged him.

He said softly almost tiredly, "You know I cannot give an impassioned presentation, even if I wished to do so."

All the anger washed out of her face, "I know."


	11. Work Arounds

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.  
**

_Still on our little diversion. I think that D'Zorak really needs a few more reasons to be worried about Spock's mental state. It all ties into the original story line, don't worry!_

**Work Arounds**

"So are you saying I am predestined to put half the audience to sleep before I even begin to speak?" He was not angry. Only curious.

"No." And she looked sideways at him with a bit of a smile starting to slip across her face. "Luckily for you we _do_ like to be entertained."

An eyebrow shot up on Spock's face, "I'm not sure of the connotations of this..."

"You don't have to be any one you're not, it can all be completely within character." She turned back to the holograms he'd created earlier, "I think if you incorporated more visuals like these, maybe with a little more contrast -- I wish you'd used them in class. They explain the subject matter so simply and so beautifully, and I think they would appeal to both a human and Vulcan audience, probably Orion and Andorian as well, perhaps not so much to Gorn..."

"Maybe you only think they are beautiful because you are an exceptional human?" Spock asked. It really was just meant as a question. Was her reaction to the holograms unusual? Would other humans respond the same way to dots of light? But there must have been a human way of interpreting the question he doesn't quite understand because she froze in place for a moment, obviously uncomfortable.

"Proceed," he added quickly.

She continued, "The display of quantitative information can be beautiful even for humans, and it can make comprehension faster even for Vulcans as you said earlier. It might also make the material accessible to generalists --there always are some at these gatherings, without diluting it for the specialists."

"Agreed," Spock said, and he did agree. It would be unorthodox, and might raise some curiosity among Vulcans in the audience, but he believed he could explain it as "speaking the language of the audience".

"Anything else?" he asked.

She paused and began slowly, "Well, in human presentations it is usually considered good form to cut the tension, to engage the audience, and to make sure that they are not asleep..." another long pause, "...by starting off with a joke."

Now both of Spock's eyebrows shot up, "You do know what the Vulcan reaction would be if I were to make a..." he took a short breath, "_joke?_" This was just not done. Not in public. Hardly in private. He was beginning to learn the merits of humor for humans--what did Uhura say, it was for "cutting tension." But it was something most Vulcans simply wouldn't understand.

She nodded, "Yes, they will think you are insane. But we have a work around."

Then she was really smiling Spock noted, ear to ear in fact.

"Do you have something specific in mind?"

"Yes."

After she told him he paused to consider. He wasn't qualified to judge the levity of her suggestion, she had said his deadpan delivery would make it funny, but he did appreciate the sly way it would work around Vulcan's in the audience. "I will consider the use of humor to 'wake up the crowd' as you say, but I accept the suggestion of adding suitable visual imagery.

"We must go look at the auditorium now...Lieutenant-Commander O'Hara's technical specifics were inadequate, he didn't even supply the square footage of the background screen, the cubic circumference of the holoscopes, or even the distance from the stage to the last row of seats."

"Now?"

Spock thought this was a very odd question, perhaps humans didn't understand the fundamentals of information design? "I cannot design visual representations of complex data if I don't know exactly how that data will be displayed," he replied.*

He touched the 3D consoles, then touched his insignia twice to download his data to his Comlink and they were off.

They spent the next two hours hiking up and down steps. Spock had plugged in the data he had in his Comlink into the holoscopes and insisted on checking the visibility of the numbers and images from every angle of the auditorium. He was looking for the most desirable size and height of the holoscope and screen projections, seeking any possible blind spots, and trying to determine the resolution of the equipment. He needed Uhura's perspective, most of the audience members would be human, and he wanted to make sure there weren't any quirks of human vision that would interfere with comprehension of the visuals.

He quickly found one.

"Cadet, are the words in 10% gray sufficiently large enough to read?"

"10% gray?"

"Yes, as opposed to the ones in 15% gray."

"15%?"

"You cannot discern a difference in value between the two columns of text?"

"No, Lieutenant, I'm sorry, maybe if they were right next to each other..."

"And yet your vision is perfect for a human." He'd known that human vision was slightly less acute, but never expected this. He added, "Starfleet's highly contrasting uniforms suddenly make more sense to me."

Uhura laughed, "It was just dawning on me that maybe there was more to Vulcan flat gray and brown fashions than met my human eyes."

By the end of the morning he was satisfied he had the technical information he needed for the location. He'd noticed that Uhura had started to flag a bit as the morning wore on, and realized she'd had her regular combat training that day. She was probably tired. And probably hungry. And she had two hours before her next engagement. It was the perfect opening for something he'd been wanting to ask since she'd returned.

"Cadet Uhura, would you like to get something to eat?"

_AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
* Ummm...yes, I am a designer with advanced training in information design (although that isn't all of what I do now). I live in the U.S. I taught English in Japan for a year. I was amazed at how much Japanese school children knew about the fundamentals of design. I'm sure Vulcan's, being ever practical, would be sure that their children knew the basics of good design, especially how to display quantitative information effectively!_


	12. Beer and Pizza

===================================================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.  
**

_Still on our little diversion...just warning you.  
_

**Beer and Pizza**

The restaurant served beer and pizza--but very good beer and pizza. It was clean, not overly loud, had outdoor seating and best of all from Spock's perspective, its tables were filled with guests of mixed company: Cadets, officers, professors and support staff.

They sat in a table in the sun, for a San Francisco day it was warm, but it was still cool for a Vulcan and a human just back from Africa. Uhura had begun pulling her hair up into a ponytail high on her head now that her BT hair cut was finally growing out. If she was at all uncomfortable Spock couldn't detect it, she was wearing her professional demeanor again.

Spock was musing on some recent revelations about Uhura's abilities. The more he considered how she was attempting to reconcile his Vulcan inabilities with human expectations the more impressed he was. Also, even if he didn't take her recommendation to interject some humor into his presentation, he really appreciated how neatly it would side step Vulcan censors.

He was inspired to pose a daring personal query. "Cadet, if I may note, your language abilities are exemplary, and your skills at navigating intercultural differences are quite remarkable. Did you ever consider joining the Federation Diplomatic Corp instead of Starfleet?"

She blinked. He realized he didn't ask her personal queries often. "Funny you should ask that. My mother spent my whole summer recess chiding me for not joining the Corps. She is a professor now, but she worked as a diplomat for many years. She wanted me to follow in her foot steps; she practically engineered me to be a diplomat and Xenolinguist."

She explained, "Humans have a limited ability to learn fluency in languages after a certain age. The reason I speak so many languages fluently is because she made sure I was exposed to native speakers from just about every world in my early years of life...she did the same for my brother and sister, but I am the one that seems to really have the love for it.

"She and my father both made sure I had access to all I needed to follow my passion. That is why I already have the training in phonology and morphology that most Cadets only receive in their second or third years."

Then she looked at Spock and said with a smile, "but my passion didn't take me to in the direction of subspace and non-subspace physics...it has only been recently that I've noticed that glaring omission my preparations."

She continued, "I don't just love the languages, but the cultural insight that the language reveals...and the puzzles. There is just so much that is beautiful that is untranslatable, or just shows the inconsistencies of a culture..." She paused, and smiled. "I could go off on a tangent there. Yes, I considered the Corps, and I think that someday when I'm ready to settle down and have children I may join...but..."

And she paused again here, "My mother believes in the primacy of diplomacy and soft power, but I believe that diplomacy without force is like music without instruments."

Spock raised an eyebrow, "Frederick the Great."

"Yes," said Uhura, "My father was in the Fleet, I must have picked it up from him. There is a huge disconnect and lack of respect between the Diplomatic Corps and Starfleet. I think they need each other. I would like someday to bridge that chasm; practical experience in the military coupled with the connections I make while serving is the way to do that. Several of my Xeno-instructors have suggested I consider a job planet-side when I graduate, that would certainly make my mother happier...but I need real military experience."

Spock had not noticed any disconnect between Vulcan diplomats and Vulcan military. But he had noticed that the human tendency for specialization tended to make humans view the world through a very narrow prism of their own disciplines. She was aware of this human failing and attempting to remedy it. Fascinating.

"But what about you Lieutenant? Rumor is that you are the only Vulcan to turn down a position at the Vulcan Science Academy."

His jaw clenched. He realized that he had to reply.

"No Vulcan has ever turned down admission to the Vulcan Science Academy. I am half human, the rumor is only partially informed." He said not looking at her.

Uhura didn't say anything for a minute, he turned his gaze back to her and caught her looking at his hand holding his water glass. He was gripping it a little too hard. He relaxed immediately -- but apparently too late.

She wasn't going to let it go. "Hmmmm...So why did you decide to turn down the historic opportunity to be the first _half_-Vulcan in the Academy?"

"I wished to pursue other options."

"I'm sure. Maybe because they ticked you off?"

He said nothing. Uhura's professional demeanor was completely gone now, "I saw a Vulcan get angry!" she laughed--but not so loudly as to attract attention.

"I am only half Vulcan."

"Whatever. Sure you didn't crack a tooth when you clenched your jaw a moment ago? I'm surprised the water glass is still in one piece."

He said nothing but he was completely relaxed. He actually liked it when she laughed; at least he knew she was happy.

"I saw a Vulcan get angry!" She looked at him mischievously, "I'll try not to gloat."

"Thank you, Cadet."


	13. Unscientific Experiments

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Unscientific Experiments**

For the next two weeks Spock put aside his normal research. Instead he and Uhura combed through _e_books and articles on human cognition. Spock had not been aware just how few humans could think in four dimensions, many had trouble with three.* Also, humans absorbed information in different ways. Some learned best through auditory methods, others visually, others needed tactile activity to learn effectively. Realizing the uneven distribution of human abilities made him wonder how humans had achieved as much as they had.

As he learned more about human cognition he realized that in order for his visuals to be effective he would need more of them -- and they'd need more contrast and color than Vulcans would find appropriate. He mentally prepared his defense for the Vulcan inquiries he knew would come.

He also reviewed literature on human information design. Spock went so far back as to review the works of Edward Tufte in actual book form.** Tufte made him aware of the Napoleon's March*** by Charles Joseph Manard, an anti-Napolean statistical graph from 1812. Spock was seriously considering getting it for his office wall, it was an example of one of those rare moments of exceptional human brilliance -- six variables on a two dimensional surface; date, location, direction of travel, river crossings, temperature, number of men dead.

He also reviewed books on public speaking; it seemed it was important in human presentations for the audience to feel empathy with the speaker. Since he had no feelings per say on the subject he was at a disadvantage.

…Spock was confused as to how one became passionately involved in numbers. He found mathematics to be one of the most fascinating and beautiful of subjects--it was the language of the universe. His study was compulsive, but he didn't love mathematics, science, or his theories. Theories were to be devised, tested, utilized practically if possible, but ultimately discarded if they proved inadequate.

To work around his lack of feeling for the subject Spock reasoned that there were things he could do to increase the audiences' involvement with the presentation. Simple things like making sure there was no podium and not reading from notes would decrease mental barriers between him and the audience. Spock's memory was nearly perfect, and he didn't need a podium to hide behind, he had no fear of public speaking. Uhura on the other hand...

He wanted her to give a basic introduction of phonology. Also he wanted her to present the methodology she'd used for organizing the results. It had been very sophisticated. But she resisted.

"I suspect you know the subject matter better than I do, and you are an eloquent and outspoken speaker," He'd argued.

"But being in front of an audience is different," she'd said.

"How is presenting data to one person any different from presenting to 1,000?" He'd asked.

"It's about a 1,000 times different, Lieutenant Spock," She'd replied.

As a superior officer he could have technically ordered her to present, but he did not want to do that.

In the end it wasn't honest assessment of her skills that convinced her. "It would be advantageous for your career," he'd said. It was his last argument. She'd relented.

Besides preparing for her part of the presentation Spock had Uhura sifting through sound samples trying to find the most effective illustrations of their methodology. Time was limited and they wound up in rather intense discussions about which to include.

Spock also had Uhura reviewing all of his visual aides. He was using human data display conventions and Vulcan conventions that didn't need in depth explanation (he's found that human methods of displaying multidimensional data left a lot to be desired.) If there was something she didn't understand (or in a few cases he realized, simply couldn't see) he revised.

Finally, he had her coaching him on his speech patterns. He was not able to show emotion even if he tried, but he could pause for emphasis at appropriate times to let the humans in the audience reflect on what he had said. Or as Uhura put it, "Keep your words from just turning into one big data dump."

He was driving her hard and he knew it. It was during this time that Spock began experimenting with humor for his own personal ends. He noted that some of Uhura and his 'discussions' had left her visibly tense and he wanted to alleviate this tension. His first attempt did not go as planned.

"Was that a joke?" she had asked.

"Since you did not laugh I'm not sure it qualifies."

Then she asked excitedly, "Are you experimenting with humor because you're considering using it in the presentation?"

That was expressly not his intent. He was experimenting in order to make her laugh and to thereby receive visual verification of her happiness. He deflected by responding, "It's hardly a scientific experiment. My sample size is too small, and I have no control group." It was a reference to their first meeting. She remembered. And most rewarding, she did laugh.

Four days before the Symposium they presented to the Commander and Lieutenant-Commander for approval. When they were done O'Hara looked at them and shook his head, "You're going to make all the rest of us look stupid."

The Commander said, "It will do. Anything else?"

Spock explained the matter of the modified introduction that the Cadet Uhura has proposed. Both superior officers nearly fell out of their seats. "Include that Spock, that's an order," the Commander said. Uhura bit her lip so hard to keep from smiling Spock was surprised it didn't bleed.

As they were leaving and making their way down the hall the Lieutenant-Commander came running after them, "Lieutenant, do you think you have time to help me incorporate some of those Vulcan multidimensional charts in my presentation?"

_**A/N:**_

_**If you like what you read (or really,really don't...review, and tell why). Reviews are how ff writers get paid.  
**_

_*In our time almost no one can think in four dimensions, and most can't even think in three. But this story takes place two hundred years from now, the Flynn Effect has worked its magic! (O.K., the Flynn Effect mostly effects the bottom and middle of the IQ spectrum, but work with me here)._

_**I just think EVERYONE should know about Tufte. If you ever get a chance to attend one of his seminars do! And his books are gorgeous and important. If you think beauty in design is important and especially if you DON'T you need to get his books now. Especially if you are a rocket scientist or aviation engineer, or some other science type person whose information has the power to get people killed._

_***Yes, its a real thing. And very beautiful._


	14. The Mind Meld

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

_Still on our diversion. There is a plan I promise._

_Oh yeah, bad science alert._

**The "Mind Meld"**

They were the last presenters before lunch the first day of the three day Symposium.

Spock gave up trying to wait for complete silence before beginning; by the time he stepped up to the stage the audience had been sitting for over three hours and was hungry and restless.

He started with basic introduction and then gave some acknowledgments, Commander Sharpton, Lieutenant-Commander O'Hara, Professor Matsumura...a few others. He finished this portion by saying in his most controlled, even, unemotional voice, "And lastly I need to acknowledge my assistant and fellow presenter, Cadet Uhura. Her task of cataloging and organizing the languages we transcribed was extreme in volume and monotony, and would have been enough to make even a Vulcan weep."

There were a few choked laughs, but for the most part the crowd went dead silent. He knew what every human in the crowd was thinking because Uhura had told him. They would experience a few seconds of extreme cognitive dissonance. They'd need a minute to adjust, to ask themselves, what was that? Did he? No, Vulcan's don't...do they?

He gave them exactly 3 seconds, during which time he knew every Vulcan in the audience was thinking he'd gone quite mad.

Then he followed in his same normal, expressionless way, "My superior officers ordered me to put that in. To assure you weren't asleep yet."

The tension was cut as though by a knife, every human and Orion in the crowd roared in laughter at the release--here was a Vulcan presenter who knew their natural reaction to Vulcan presenters...and he wasn't haughty about it either. Every Vulcan in the audience exhaled audibly--it was a direct order, he had no choice, the Vulcan on the stage wasn't completely mad after all.

As soon as the room quieted Spock began the presentation with a brief abstract of the project. Then Cadet Uhura stood up and gave a very short introduction to phonology in order to describe the practical problems they had faced and to establish the methodology they'd use for organizing their results. Her portion of the presentation was brief, it was a Subspace Physics Symposium after all. Uhura did use some carefully selected sound samples, but she did not require much in the way of visual aids, other than some projections to describe the notation of various languages (designed by Spock of course, there would be no inconsistency in style).

As she stepped down Spock really began.

There were two holoscopes on the stage, one on either side. He didn't use spotlights, Spock had determined that the light from the holos was enough. He did not use notes or a podium (and he had not allowed Uhura these crutches either). Spock spoke more slowly and used more images than a Vulcan normally would. And in the images he did use he used more colors since his human audience wasn't attuned to subtlety. But there was nothing theatrical. Every element meant something--whether it was sound, hologram, projection, letter or number. He'd stuck to human conventions for color (cools with white for emphasis) and fonts (only two.)

When he wanted to make a point he would generate a 3D hologram that was nearly half a meter taller than him. In examples of human presentations rated by other humans as excellent he'd noticed the presenters often talked with their hands (as did Cadet Uhura). He couldn't physically bring himself to do that any more than he could speak with passion. He compensated by literally walking around and through the data, and inclining his head to the point he wanted to illustrate -- highlighting it with another color if necessary.

In this way Spock walked the audience through his original theorem, the inspiration for it, and the methods he'd used to prove it. Then he showed how he had devised experiments, the results, and particular technical challenges.

He finished up the presentation with future directions, describing the experiments they had begun to isolate the natural occurring subspace transmissions--he allowed himself to add, "or as some of my human colleagues call it, 'solar gossip'." He was rewarded with a few chuckles from the human and Orions in the audience. He knew the Vulcans would just perceive it as commentary on the eccentricity of his human hosts.

At the end he stood towered between the two holograms he'd first shown Uhura, illuminated only by their light. "Thank you," he had concluded.

He was about to start the question and answer period when everything seemed to go very wrong. There was the slow start of clapping, and then the humans (and Orions) started to stand up. Were they so hungry they were leaving for lunch already? He had exactly 12 minutes 38 seconds left for questions (he'd planned on more but the previous speaker hadn't moved the podium and it taken a 2 minutes 22 seconds to get it off the stage.) The clapping reached a deafening roar, nearly all the audience was standing, but no one was leaving the auditorium.

It took a few minutes to register that they were receiving a standing ovation. This was not good.

And he had no idea how to quiet the crowd. The next thing he knew Commander Sharpton, Lieutenant-Commander O'Hara and Cadet Uhura were standing next to him. Uhura said, "Well done Lieutenant." O'Hara smacked him on the shoulder, Spock couldn't help but look down at where the other man's hand had hit.

The Commander immediately took control of the audience, she held up both his arms at shoulder level, palms out and as she gently brought her hands down the applause silenced and people dropped back to their seats.

O'Hara backed her up with a booming "I'm sure the applause is appreciated, but Lieutenant Spock and Cadet Uhura have only 10 minutes left to answer your questions."

Spock did not appreciate the applause, and there was now only 9 minutes and 52 seconds left. He took a breath and nodded his head towards a nondescript middle aged human male standing to ask a question near the front of the auditorium.

"Thank you both for such an informative presentation. Lieutenant Spock, I've never seen or heard multidimensional subspace theory explained so clearly," the man began. Spock was grateful to hear his unorthodox presentation style vindicated.

His gratitude vanished quickly. The man continued, "Is that what it is like to be on the receiving end of a Vulcan Mind Meld?" This was really not good.

There were some laughs through the crowd and murmurs. Spock composed himself and replied, "I'm glad you found my methods effective, do you have a question relating to the material under discussion?" He hoped his answer did not elicit ire from members of his species in the audience.

The man continued, "Yes actually. Your research focuses only on auditory subspace signals, I understand that the signals we use to create the visual portion of our subspace transmissions enter and exit time at a different frequency. Can you calculate those signals from your multidimensional arrays using data from the 30 kHZ - 300 MHz frequencies? If not, is it possible they would be computable using data from 300 MHz- 300GHz?"

At last here was a logical and pertinent question, "We are not able to compute the signals from data in the 30 kHZ-300 MHz frequencies however..."

There were several more questions, most started out with effusive commentary like, "Thank you, I felt like I have just been a privileged observer to the inner workings of a Vulcan mind..." or more Mind Meld analogies but he muddled through.

Everyone did thank him for making the subject "so clear" and "easy to understand" so he had not completely failed. But he was going to have a lot of explaining to do.


	15. The Interpreter

===============================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

_Still on our little tangent. Special thanks to _JAGNikJen my new beta-reader!

**The Interpreter  
**  
Where was his cadet?

They'd spent a good thirty minutes together on the stage answering questions; apparently there was a more fluid definition of the time designated as "lunch break" than Spock had realized.

Uhura had received some very in-depth questions. A tall Vulcan woman asked one about a particular quirk in Betazed phonology that Spock would have been completely unable to answer. He had been right to insist Uhura present -- was gloating appropriate? And if he did gloat would it make her laugh?

When questions to Uhura had tapered off she'd disappeared.

Now it was almost an hour into the scheduled lunch break and there was still a small crowd around Spock on the stage asking him questions and making comments.

He actually found their inquiries and observations interesting, and it was obvious that his presentation and been intellectually stimulating for them, but he had questions himself.

Approximately twenty-eight minutes before the end of the scheduled break, Uhura reappeared, carrying a plate of fruit and cheese in one hand and a glass of water and silverware wrapped by a napkin in the other. She walked up to the stage and right after he'd answered a question, and before anyone could pose another she asked, "Lieutenant Spock, the lunch break is almost over, I brought you something. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, actually." And it was true. As soon as he replied his audience began to excuse themselves with apologies for keeping him from his lunch--adding hopeful inquiries into his availability for more questions later as they left.

"There is a table and chairs backstage, Lieutenant."

He doubted that there would be any curious Vulcans lurking back stage. "That sounds perfect."

Before they reached the table, he was already asking her questions. "Cadet, I do not understand the response to the presentation. I believe a standing ovation is for theatrical performances. Did the audience perceive the presentation as entertainment?"

She put the plate, water and utensils down.

"No Lieutenant, I don't believe they found it to be theater at all. I think they were just showing their appreciation for a job well done."

"Then their response was not based on emotion?" he asked, sitting down on a chair.

She sat across from him, elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of her. "I wouldn't say it was a completely unemotional response. They were extremely happy to have witnessed something that made theory so accessible. Even though most of the audience is in your field, I think many of them would expect many hours of pouring over your equations and data to fully understand it. In less than an hour you gave them full comprehension."

Spock said nothing -- he was not sure this was an explanation he could use.

"Lieutenant, is something wrong?"

He looked at her. "Certain elements of my presentation today will be questionable to the Vulcans in the audience. They will inquire. I'd like to be prepared."

"Surely, it is acceptable that humans have human reactions?"

He raised one eyebrow.

"Why did the audience keep referring to the experience as a mind meld?" he asked, still not touching his food.

"Many humans don't believe that Vulcans have emotions. I think they imagine that the cold clarity of the numbers, charts and figures you displayed is what the inside of a Vulcan mind looks like. Everything logical, everything mathematical, complex theory easily understood in an instant...I think we are in awe of Vulcan mathematical ability, we wish numbers made sense to us so easily. Why is this an issue?"

"Mind melds are extremely private -- to have a public event compared to a mind meld will be considered by many to be extremely…"Spock searched for the right word. "…distasteful. Also, cold logic is the explicit opposite of what a mind meld is about..."

She shook her head in what looked like annoyance. "Well, if Vulcans don't want us to have misconceptions about mind meld they could be more open about what they actually are. You're pretty closed lipped about it you know."

He looked at her, picked up a fork and stabbed a strawberry. "Well done, Cadet."

Then he considered; was there something he had forgotten? Yes, yes there was. "Oh, and thank you for the food."

Spock dutifully attended the rest of the presentations that day. He'd actually read all the papers, but he'd gathered attendance, though not mandatory, was polite. Uhura sat with him through Lieutenant Commander O'Hara's presentation right after lunch.

O'Hara was everything as a speaker Spock was not. He was energetic and he literally bounced across the stage. He coaxed the audience to laughter on several occasions --sometimes even Uhura laughed. "Hey, I actually got that one," she'd exclaimed excitedly. Apparently the humor of subspace physics was not accessible to everyone.

There was one thing Spock and O'Hara's presentations had in common. When O'Hara presented the first Vulcan multidimensional chart, he said, "As you can see, I had a little help from Lieutenant Spock on the visuals."

The audience laughed. Spock turned to Uhura. "I do not understand why there is laughter at a statement of fact."

"He's saying a lot with very few words. He's acknowledging that he wouldn't have been able to do something as successful without your help. The laughter was prompted because..." she tilted her head. "He is stating the obvious, and saying a lot with an economy of words that is a bit surprising. Also I think we're laughing in empathy, we're showing we've all felt the pain of our own human limitations at one point or another."

Spock didn't understand and hoped he wouldn't be called upon to explain.


	16. The Vulcan Inquisition

===========================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

_Special thanks to JAGNikJen my new beta-reader!  
_

**The Vulcan Inquisition**

"_It is a pleasure to meet you Lieutenant Spock. I am D'Zorack, head Vulcan Interspecies Counselor for Starfleet, charged with protecting your interests and ensuring that Vulcan traditions are upheld,_" the eldest of the five Vulcans said in his native tongue.

Spock had never met D'Zorack and had no idea who the Vulcan Interspecies Counselors were. This was looking interesting.

D'Zorack began introducing his colleagues. "_Spock, this is Taleun, and Zeidal, also from the Vulcan Interspecies Council, and I believe you've met Somal and Sadan."_

It took a moment for Spock to recognize Somal and Sadan, and then it registered. They had been on the board of the Vulcan Science Academy when he had turned down admission. This was looking very interesting.

***********************************

Spock and Cadet Uhura had been explicitly requested to attend a reception for delegates of the symposium by Commander Sharpton. The reception was held in a giant hall with shiny black stained stone floors, and soaring windows that would not have looked out of place in a church.

Both of them had been surrounded by attendees almost as soon as they entered. Uhura had been approached by the tall Vulcan woman who had asked the question about Betazed phonlogy.

Spock heard the Vulcan say, "Cadet Uhura, at last we meet in person."

He hadn't been aware Uhura knew any other Vulcans, but he didn't have a chance to muse on this. He was immediately set upon by human and Orion attendees thanking him for his presentation and asking him questions.

It had taken a while, but the crowd around him had finally thinned. He turned his head to look for Cadet Uhura and saw her still engrossed in conversation with the Vulcan woman he had seen earlier. That is when D'Zorack had introduced himself and his companions.

Now Spock was standing with the five Vulcans with his back to a corner of the hall. The high ceilings created an echo that effectively muffled adjacent conversations, he didn't think they were close enough to any surrounding attendees to be overheard.

_"Pleased to be in your presence,"_ Spock said, nodding his head.

_"I suspect you did not know you had your own counselors, __Spock," _ D'Zorack said._ "Each species in Starfleet has their own representatives. You are currently Starfleet's only Vulcan, but they are so impressed by your performance they are trying to attract more, hence our very recent assignment. As our only current charge we felt compelled to attend your presentation today with Somal and Sadan."_

_  
_Somal got right to the point. _"That was a very interesting presentation you gave Lieutenant Spock. Your research is impressive, are you sure you did not detract from it with your unorthodox presentation style?"_

_"On the contrary, I designed the presentation to facilitate the needs of the human attendees since they were the greatest percentage of the audience. The feedback I have received so far suggests that I was successful."_

_"I presume you refer to the multidimensional charts you included,"_ Sadan said. _"I believe your excessive use of the these visual aids and the disturbing amount of color and contrast you added to them may have turned a scientific event into nothing more than an entertaining display."_

Spock responded cooly, "_It had come to my attention that humans have less ability to detect contrast; that is the reason for the increased use of color. As for the number of visual aids provided I have found that humans' ability to understand__ multidimensional theory is not as mathematically rooted as our own, hence the greater number of explanatory devices."  
_

_"Well, if you say it was to __accommodate__ human inferior capabilities..." _ Sadan replied.

_"I did not say it was to __accommodate__ inferior capabilities. As I __stated__, their understanding is not rooted in mathematics as deeply as our own. I __chose__ to present the material in a visual language more suited to facilitating human comprehension." _Spock said these words smoothly and evenly, without any hint of emotion. But it gave his companions pause. Spock knew not acknowledging innate human inferiority was not a winning strategy, but in his years with humans he'd begun to doubt this blanket assumption and could not help but be completely honest even if it hurt his own defense.

It was D'Zorack who spoke. _"I am still concerned that the presentation may have come off as theater. The reaction of the crowd was one generally reserved for entertainment events."_

Spock decided here it was best to admit his own uncertainty. _"Indeed, that troubled me too. I inquired with my human associates and they assure me that it was in recognition of a job well done."_

_"So there was no emotion in the response?"_ one of the other counselors asked.

Faced with a direct question Spock was unable to lie._ "They are human; their responses to many __stimuli__ are...emotional."_

D'Zorak said in clipped tones, _"Well then it would seem your presentation elicited greater emotion than any other."_

_"Perhaps it was __just recognition__ of greater success." _ Spock replied. This was dangerous ground. Some of the other Vulcans would doubtlessly present later in the week. They would probably elicit the same 'Pavlovian' sleep response he'd recently learned about. There were unlikely to be any standing ovations, and in fact might be empty seats.

There was another pause.

D'Zorak broke the silence again. _"And of course there is the greatest concern, that you have made public a very private Vulcan ceremony."_

_"This was of course not my intention__,"_ Spock replied.

_"Nonetheless, it __occurred__. Moreover, the audience inferred that a mind meld is something very different than what it actually is. You did nothing to disabuse this misconception."_

_"As for their interpretation of the ceremony, it has been explained to me that as Vulcans we have controlled our emotions so well that most humans believe we simply have none__." _Spock explained, _"They__ believe that our minds function almost entirely in the realm of mathematics. They understand a mind meld involves transference of thoughts __--__ but believe the only thoughts we have to transfer are logical in origin."_

One of the counselors said matter-of-factly, _"You could have at least let them know our thoughts are not so colorful."_ This wasn't a joke. They really considered the colors he'd used inappropriate. Also, the word colorful had no connotation of eccentricity in Vulcan. However, maybe if he retold this story to Uhura...

He returned his focus to the conversation at hand. _"I do not think that I possess the wisdom to judge how inappropriate interpretations of the __mind meld__ should be handled. There is no established protocol, so I __chose__ to evade the issue entirely."_

D'Zorak seemed almost satisfied with this. _"Indeed you do not possess the wisdom._

_"I am still concerned though,__"_ the older Vulcan continued, _"comments you have made imply that you do not accept human inferiority in matters of intellect."_

Spock kept his voice even. _"It has been my observation that although there is greater intellectual diversity of ability __between__ humans than between Vulcans, they utilize one another and technology to make up for their inadequacies. As a race their achievements are comparable..."_

_"Their achievements are comparable due to Vulcan assistance," _retorted Sadan.

_"At one time, yes." _Then Spock mused, _"But even humans quick assimilation of technologies superior to their own shows a flexibility that is hardly inferior."_

Somal said, "_We noticed that the Vulcan multidimensional charts they adopted elicited laughter."_

_"You misunderstood their response, as did I…" _ It was difficult for him to explain something he didn't fully understand himself._"I inquired. I was told the__ response indicated both an understanding of the superiority of the display convention, as well as a certain empathy with the speaker."_  
_  
"An emotional reaction to logical display of information hardly makes the case for the integrity of human intellect," _Somal retorted.

D'Zorak spoke up_. "Enough. Human weaknesses in the area of intellect are quantifiable. I believe your own human heritage is making you unable to properly recognize what are established facts, Spock."_

And then from over the shoulders of the Vulcans came the voice of Lieutenant Commander O'Hara, speaking what was perhaps the worst Vulcan Spock had ever heard. _"I may be an inferior human, but..." _ Then O'Hara muttered something unintelligible and switched to the common lingua franca. "But the last sentence you spoke to Lieutenant Spock was an _ad hominem _fallacy. Question the man's logic all you want, but throw his heritage into the equation and you're being the illogical one."

All the Vulcans, including Spock, were shocked into silence. They turned and parted to look at the Lieutenant Commander. Spock noticed he was flanked by a very worried looking Professor Matsumura and Cadet Uhura.

This was most unfortunate.


	17. Humans

===========================================================  
DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this**.**

**Humans**

The trouble was, the "inferior" human was right. Spock recognized D'Zorack's mistake immediately but he hadn't wanted to point out the error; he had not wanted to insult the older Vulcan. Instead he had planned to continue reasoning with his fellow Vulcans and impress upon them further observations as to how human outputs exceeded human inputs. Show them the error of their ways, but slowly and gently. Now he wouldn't have a chance.

Worse, D'Zorack had been caught in a fallacy and thereby insulted not just by another Vulcan, but by a human -- a human who didn't deny his inferiority. And it had been public.

If there had been a battle being waged in the conversation, Spock had now lost. He would not be able to finish defending himself or his views. One by one, all the Vulcans nodded towards him and then silently departed. There was no protocol for this situation. Neither he, nor they, really knew what to do.

O'Hara and Matsumura came over and stood next to him. Cadet Uhura still faced Spock, but she'd moved closer.

O'Hara crossed his arms over his chest while he watched the other Vulcans depart.

"Nice friends you've got there, Spock."

Spock was familiar with sarcasm, but he was still in a bit of shock. "I'm afraid you misunderstand. I am not personally acquainted with any of them," he replied.

"And that's just another reason for me to like you, Spock," said O'Hara. "I guess they don't expect humans to understand Vulcan." He swore under his breath, something to the effect of Vulcan arrogance. Then almost paradoxically he added, "After mathematics, Vulcan practically is the language of science. Toshi is nearly fluent, I can understand it but can't speak it worth..." Another swear followed.

O'Hara turned to Matsumura. "Toshi," he said, "Lets get something to drink. Spock, why don't you join us?" And with that he strode away.

As the Lieutenant Commander left, Matsumura said softly in nearly flawless Vulcan, _"I apologize for Patrick...Lieutenant Commander O'Hara. He merely wished to remedy what he saw as an injustice. He meant no harm, though I think he may have caused some."_

_"What's done cannot be undone,"_ Spock replied. _"And it is impossible to calculate the future."_

Spock looked at Uhura; he had a strong desire to ask her what exactly just transpired.

Matsumura looked at the Cadet, then back to Spock. He said quietly, "Perhaps, I will see you at the bar."

Spock was silent as the older man left. It was Uhura who spoke. "I knew you said there would be questions. I didn't realize you meant an inquisition."

"It was not an inquisition. They merely wished to assist me in identifying potential flaws in my logic so that I might perfect my reasoning."

She folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head. "Really?"

He chose to ignore the question. "I don't quite understand why the Lieutenant Commander wished to interfere."

"I was on my way over to introduce you to T'Lan...I heard the Lieutenant Commander muttering something about you being backed into a corner and outnumbered. I think he really was trying to help."

Spock said nothing. It was all very confusing.

Uhura said softly, "Spock, I've become accustomed Vulcan bluntness. But I didn't expect them to be so...illogical. That comment about you being half human..."

He didn't look at her, but felt his jaw clench.

She gave him a half smile. "Thank you for what sounded like the beginnings of an elegant defense on behalf of our inferior species. If it makes you feel better, I thought you were far more logical than any of those full green blooded Vulcans."

Actually…it did make him feel a bit better. He looked at her and asked, "Are you sure you are not biased in the matter?" Then he did something quite calculated. Something he had found usually succeeded in making her laugh. He raised an eyebrow.

She grinned...and did laugh a little.

"I think our commanding officer has requested my presence at the bar," said Spock, and started in the general direction. He stopped and looked back at her. She caught up to him and they made their way across the room.

**********************************

The following two days went smoothly except perhaps for one small momentary slip on Spock's part.

Spock had sat through all of the presentations--even Xelium's. Xelium's presentation was the last to be given on the second day. He heard fellow attendees muttering something about, "Xelium getting up on stage to beat his dead horse once again." Spock recognized that Xelium's theories weren't flawed, merely old. It seemed the older researcher had not done anything genuinely new in a long time. Many of the seats in the auditorium emptied.

A few Vulcans did approach Spock with questions about his research during breaks. No one questioned his methods of delivery again.

On the final night of the Symposium, there was a formal dinner. Uhura hadn't been able to attend the conference during the second two days, but she was able to make this last event.

It turned out there was an added benefit to convincing Uhura to present that Spock had not anticipated. As his fellow presenter, she got to sit next to him during dinner, just to his right, at what she called 'the grownup table'. Matsumura was on his left, with his wife Yumi. O'Hara, his wife Katie, Lieutenant Commander Janine Garcia and her assistant Cadet Adam Lin rounded out the group.

What impressed Spock most was how little it was like a formal dinner on Vulcan. For one thing, there was the presence of bond-mates. On Vulcan this would only have occurred if the bond-mates were involved in the same research.

Then there was the conversation, or rather conversations. On Vulcan, the conversation would have stuck to the physics of subspace signals--and that was discussed at their table, but so was just about everything else. One minute Spock was discussing artificial intelligence with Matsumura, then somehow the subject changed to Katie's research into optimizing warp drive cores.

At one point, Yumi engaged half the table in a conversation about pre-warp Klingon weaponry; while at the same time, Garcia was bantering about ancient Terran aviation devices. Nothing was discussed very deeply, but the breadth of the topics was quite fascinating. Spock took mental notes of all the snippets of data he would have to explore later in greater detail.

There was little regard for rank. Lieutenant Commander O'Hara and Professor Matsumura slipped quickly into addressing each other as Patrick and Toshi.

Then there was the way humor and emotion were worked into the most technical of subjects. All the humans at the table laughed, joked and smiled.

It was a completely alien environment to the half-Vulcan. But surprisingly, he was comfortable.

Partially, it was the stimulating nature of the conversation, but partially, too, it was the two humans seated immediately next to him.

Professor Matsumura evidently knew a lot about Vulcans. Spock noticed how careful the man was in their physical interactions. When a small bowl of Bajoran Xiling spice, hardly bigger than an egg, made its way around the table the professor held the bowl in a flattened palm so that Spock could gingerly pick it up without physical contact. It was a deeply appreciated gesture. Random brushes of telepathic contact were one of the primary reasons human gatherings were uncomfortable for Spock.

Uhura was, of course, equally careful in her deportment. No part of her person brushed against him during the evening -- and despite the very different relationship he had with his cadet, he was grateful for that. He had sometimes almost wished for accidental contact in the past few weeks, but a public occurrence would have been too distracting.

He realized that he and Uhura were starting to communicate in ways that were wordless but not telepathic. If a human idiom he didn't understand was spoken he could tilt his head slightly in her direction and drop his eyes to the table and she'd whisper a hushed definition. If a strange dish appeared in front of him he could raise his eyebrows and she'd tell him its name and origins. He was grateful for the explanations, and he found the touch of her breath on his ear exquisite.

Happy might have been too strong a word to describe his psychological state, but he was definitely in a deep state of enjoyment and contentment.

After dinner all of the guests got up and began to mingle with participants who had been seated at other tables. Despite the opportunity to roam Spock found himself with Yumi, Professor Matsumura and Cadet Uhura. Their conversation turned to the similarities of traditional Japanese culture and Vulcan culture. They talked in a dizzying mish-mash of Vulcan and the lingua franca, with tidbits of Japanese thrown in here and there -- just for emphasis. Spock was the only one who didn't know all three languages, the other three would bring up a Japanese word or expression that reflected what they saw as "Vulcan-ness" and then they'd translate it for him.

A band began playing ballroom music and Spock looked up to see that a small dance floor opened up. He saw Lieutenant Commander O'Hara and Katie among the couples. It was surprising to see the boisterous and bouncy O'Hara slip gracefully across the floor.

His focus shifted immediately back into the conversation when Uhura said, "I think it would be exhausting to maintain Vulcan control over emotions _all the time._"

Yumi laughed. "It is impossible for humans!"

"Yes, yes." Toshi smiled and added quietly, "Do you know how we managed to keep Vulcan control over our emotions most of the time, Lieutenant Spock?"

Spock inclined his head. "No, I'm afraid I don't."

Yumi and Toshi both raised the glasses of wine they were nursing and said in unison, "By drinking the rest of the time!"

Uhura raised her own wine glass and gave a Japanese toast. "Konpai!"

Toshi and Yumi clinked their glasses to hers and exclaimed, "Konpai! Konpai!"

Spock was sorry he didn't have a glass of his own at the moment – he did drink occasionally out of politeness, although he was immune to alcohol's inebriating effects.

Just then Katie and O'Hara came over. Katie was saying, "I'm through for now Patrick, you'll have to find a new partner."

O'Hara tilted his head to the music. "That's a waltz! Cadet Uhura, care to join me on the floor?" O'Hara asked bowing slightly.

Uhura curtseyed in return. "I'd love to!"

Katie winked at the younger woman, and said, "Have fun, watch your toes!" Then turned and began talking to Yumi. Spock was completely lost to the conversation. His eyes were glued to his cadet and the Lieutenant Commander as they made their way over to the dance floor and began to glide gracefully together to the waltz.

Suddenly Spock felt the evening begin to shatter around him. He began to quietly seethe. It wasn't the physical contact between and O'Hara and Uhura that was setting him off, although he was acutely aware of being jealous of that.

No, what was really provoking jealousy was the ease with which the two humans, hardly acquainted, could interact with each other and show such easy emotion. He understood it was only friendship, but even that was so much more than he could do. Their hands were clasped, there was no telepathic discomfort. They smiled easily and laughed together. They were communicating publicly in a language of easy affection that he could not, and probably never would be able to participate in -- whether it was due to Vulcan training or Vulcan blood he really didn't know and it really didn't matter. It just was.

He'd begun to feel connected to his human associates that evening. Now he felt the connection sever. And, as always, he wasn't connected to his fellow Vulcans in the room. Not really.

He was furious with himself for not being one or the other.

He stood locked in place just watching Uhura and the Lieutenant Commander, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He took a deep breath, the air around him suddenly seemed thin.

"Lieutenant Spock." He heard the words dimly.

"Lieutenant Spock." The words came again.

Spock snapped his head around to look to see Toshi had stepped very close.

"They've opened the doors to the balcony. Perhaps you'd like to join me outside?"

Spock did not relish the idea of standing outside on what was for a Vulcan a chilly San Francisco evening. Then he caught Toshi's eyes wandering across the room to a spot beyond the dance floor. He followed Toshi's gaze and found himself looking straight into the stares of D'Zorak and Somal. Spock nodded across the room at them. They nodded back.

He looked down at Toshi and said, "Thank you. I think I would appreciate the opportunity to get some air."

Toshi turned his eyes back to Spock and started towards the balcony.


	18. Uhura's Secret

===============================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Uhura's Secret**

"Pardon?" asked Spock.

"Oh, I said that I won't be able to go home for the recess before the fall semester. I won't get to see my family. I'm actually pretty sad about it," Uhura said.

"No, the first part."

It was the end of the summer semester. They were eating outside again. A different place, more of pub, but still, with plenty of mixed company.

The summer had gone well. He and Uhura had settled into a new pattern in their research. They were still studying natural subspace transmissions; at present he was interested in how planet side events such as weather and seismic activity affected subspace signals in the radio spectrum. He needed to be able to account for random events when he stripped natural transmissions from sentient made transmissions.

He looked for significant planet side events in various systems. Then Uhura found appropriate sentient subspace transmissions and radio signals. Spock would then run the simulation of what the sentient chatter would look like in radio signals and compare it to the actual radio signals. He was pleased with the pace they were maintaining, despite their two week diversion.

And overall he'd been pleased with how his Cadet and his personal relationship had been developing. There had been one horribly tense moment when the subspace signal array had broken again and they'd fixed it. Well, she had fixed it. He had held the flashlight for her -- in the dark, underneath the array, their bodies almost touching. It had been excruciating.

Uhura had even commented at the time, "Lieutenant, this is awkward." He was familiar with her enough to know that she had been trying to cut the tension. It hadn't worked for him.

He had kept his gaze carefully focused on the beam cast by the flashlight. All he had managed was a muffled, "Indeed." Her heart rate had been elevated, but considerably calmer than his; it wasn't logical to expect justice from the universe, still...

But overall, he thought things had progressed smoothly. This was their fourth lunch together this summer. He had thought that the friendship / mentor arrangement was going well. Until now.

"Oh, well, I have a paper that my advisor and T'Lan have been urging me to finish and submit to the Vulcan Historical Letters Journal. Do you remember T'Lan? I never got to introduce you, she was only at the Symposium the first day. Anyway, I decided not to go home so I can focus in the next few weeks and wrap it up."

How did he not know about this? A Vulcan was urging her to submit a paper to a journal -- she was barely a second year Cadet and she was going to be published in a journal, a _Vulcan_ journal. (He had no doubt that if a Vulcan was urging her to complete the paper publication was in all likelihood inevitable).

Spock was fairly certain that friends shared papers that they were considering submitting for publication. He was also fairly certain that a real friend would pick through their friend's paper word-by-word and point out all logical inconsistencies and grammatical mistakes. He was hurt. And he wondered just how much more he didn't know about her.

"I did not realize you were considering submitting a paper for publication," he said.

"Yes, well, it was kind of an accident."

"You accidentally wrote a paper for publication?"

"Didn't you develop your subspace signal equation because you were bored out of your mind on some lunar space station or something?"

"Yes, but I had nothing to do. You are a Cadet. You are by definition overworked and starved for sleep."

Uhura sighed. "It started out being for a course. I took Comparative History of Xenosocieties second semester. We were required to write a paper analyzing some historical piece of xenoliterature -- it could be Romulan, Klingon, Vulcan...anything.

"But I thought it was a horrible assignment. It was a comparative history class. Why weren't we comparing xenosocieites, instead of just analyzing one society from our own human point of view?

"So I decided to write a paper on the _T'Kai Lamana Ita_."

Spock, like every Vulcan, and probably every Romulan too, knew of the _T'Kai Lamana Ita_. It was an epic of the proportions of the Ramayana that had been written before the Romulan Vulcan separation -- and before Surak.

Uhura continued. "Instead of analyzing the _T'Kai Lamana Ita_ directly though, I decided to do a cross literature study comparing how the proto-Romulan and the proto-Vulcan interpretations of the piece varied. As I'm sure you know, the proto-Romulans were primarily from one ethnic group, while the proto-Vulcans were primarily from another.

I compared interpretations from both groups about a thousand years before Surak, and then again approximately one hundred years before Surak.

"Everyone is obsessed with the Surak time period." She finished shaking her head.

"The adaption of Surak's teachings was the defining cultural event of Vulcan society," Spock pointed out.

"But that's the thing, I don't think the adaption of Surak's teachings was an event, I think it was a process of natural Vulcan evolution. I think everything he taught had been building for thousands of years. If Surak hadn't come along I think that the Vulcan adaptation of the supremacy of logic would have happened anyway -- it just would have had a different person as catalyst."

There was nothing quite like blasphemy over lunch, Spock thought.

"And you found evidence of this while you were studying proto-Romulan and proto-Vulcan interpretations of the _T'Kai Lamana Ita_?" He asked.

"Yes, actually. The proto-Vulcan analysis of the epic, even thousands of years before Surak are almost completely based on the plot line and structure of the language of the piece. All very logical. The proto-Romulan analysis are, well, incredibly emotional. Proto-Romulan analysis delved into the feelings of the characters -- structural analysis of the language was secondary."

"It could have merely been cultural," Spock said.

"It also could have been biological," Uhura replied. "Result of an ethnic trait. But no Vulcan seems to have the guts to suggest that."

Spock decided not to comment on the second statement. "I presume you used original source documents, not translations?"

"Oh, of course!" Uhura said.

"It was supposed to be just a paper for the class," Uhura said, "But my instructor liked it so much he forwarded it to my advisor and T'Lan. From there it sort of spun out of control. I'm pretty sick of it now -- not the subject matter, just the endless footnotes, appendices, references... I'm not cut out to be an academic." She had her elbows on the table and now she leaned her forehead down onto one of her hands.

Spock decided to venture a daring statement. "I would like to read your paper."

Uhura looked up at him and sighed. "I'm not sure it is really all that it everyone is making it out to be. I think it has novelty value for T'Lan. Because it is written by human it offers a unique perspective, that doesn't mean it is orthodoxy shattering."

Spock looked at her. "As I'm sure you know by now, Vulcans are not prone to the overestimation of human intellect. Moreover, something does not have to be orthodoxy shattering to be worthwhile."

"Tell you what," Uhura said, "After I'm done tearing it to shreds over the next few weeks, I'll let you tear it to shreds."

"That sounds fair. I look forward to tearing your paper to shreds." He raised an eyebrow at the end of the last sentence and looked her directly in the eye. Uhura gave him an extremely dirty look -- and a wry half smile.

He wondered if there something he was forgetting. Yes. "Cadet," he added, "I am sorry you will not be able to visit your family."

Spock did not expect to see her for the following few weeks.


	19. Checkmate

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.  
**  
**Checkmate**

In the end he did see Cadet Uhura over the second summer recess, at a bar no less. It was due in no small part to Matsumura and O'Hara.

It wasn't just his relationship to his Cadet that had been changing over the summer. His relationship to his colleagues, particularly Lieutenant-Commander O'Hara and Professor Matsumura, had changed as well.

In a horrible awkward conversation O'Hara had apologized for interfering in his debate with the Vulcans at the Symposium.

"Cross cultural understanding isn't my strong point, Spock. I just thought it wasn't a fair fight. I really wanted to help. Toshi has explained to me that it would have been better for you to try and reason with that weasel a little longer...damn Vulcans and Japanese and all indirect cultures.

"Anyway, next time you decide to rumble with the Vulcans, we can maybe come up with a hand signal or something, and I'll only jump in if you need me."

Spock had only been able to stare dumbfounded at O'Hara. Rumble with the Vulcans?

The next day O'Hara had showed up over Spock's lunch hour with a 3D chessboard and a timer.

"Lieutenant Spock, care to join me in a game of 4D chess?"

"4D chess?" Spock had asked.

"I have an attention deficit problem. We play 3D chess with a timer. Two minutes max between each move."

It was too interesting to be missed. Spock played O'Hara that day and beat the other man soundly. Although, not as easily as he had expected; Spock had actually been impressed with O'Hara's performance. O'Hara on the other hand was definitively not impressed, he had cursed himself loudly and voraciously.

A few days later O'Hara showed up at Spock's lab with Toshi. "O.K., Spock," O'Hara had said, "Today, if you're interested, were going to play 4D chess, but this time Toshi is going to be my wing man."

Spock looked at Toshi, then back to O'Hara and asked, "He is going to help you formulate moves?"

"Oh Hell...No, Spock," O'Hara responded. "There is no time for debating strategy in 4D chess. Toshi is just going to engage you in conversation in order to distract you."

Toshi piped in, his face an expressionless mask. "5D chess, if you will."

"Yeah, 5D chess," O'Hara said. "As long as we're honest about it, we figure it isn't cheating."

And so the 5D chess matches had begun. The first few times Toshi had just talked about research in general. Spock had won all of these games, but O'Hara was definitely performing better.

The third game Toshi had brought up that his research into artificial intelligence was going to be used to help devise better battle simulations, specifically for the Kobayahsi Maru test.

"The test designed to be unwinnable," Spock had replied, making his move on the board.

"You know it is unwinnable?" Toshi had asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Spock had said. Then he added, "I suppose it has some psychological lesson."

"You're not supposed to know that it is unwinnable. Please don't repeat that. Yes, there is a psychological lesson."

"Professor Matsumura, I find your research in artificial intelligence fascinating. Please continue with the details of how it relates to the Kobayashi Maru," Spock had said. He really wasn't interested in the psychology of the test.

Matsumura had then engaged Spock in a very stimulating conversation on how principles of artificial intelligence could be used to help simulation software evolve with the tactics and strategies of the participants. By the end of the lunch hour Spock had won the 5D chess match with a small deal of difficulty and agreed to help Matsumura with his research. All in all, 5D chess seemed a very rewarding game.

Then Matsumura had changed his strategy.

The next game he had engaged Spock in a less scientific discussion - specifically on human behavior. It was a devilish tactic, Spock found himself having more difficulty switching from his play on the board back to the conversation.

It was during this game that Spock found himself saying, "I don't understand why a human acquaintance of mine from my days as a cadet wants to get together the night before he switches to active duty in the neutral zone."

"Humans often don't like to be alone during times before a life altering engagement. And he also probably would like to say goodbye," Toshi replied.

"We said goodbye two years ago when he graduated." Spock said, not looking from the board.

"How long were you acquainted with him, Lieutenant Spock?"

"We were roommates for four years - our entire time at the Academy."

"Did you get along as roommates?" Toshi asked.

Spock considered. There was one time when he had made the mistake of giving his comlink data to a certain woman...She had quite ingeniously modified said comlink so that Spock could not turn it off, and so that all messages were broadcast loud enough to be heard across a dorm room. She had then proceeded to call Spock at 4 a.m. the night before his roommate Brian's advanced quantum physics exam. Brian had wound up hopping out of bed and crushing Spock's comlink with a shoe in a fit of rage.

"Except for one incident we had no real difficulties." Spock replied. He then realized he had just made an ill considered move on the board.

"It is typical for humans to want to be with people they are fond with before embarking on a life altering journey."

Raising an eyebrow Spock said, "You are saying he has some sort of an emotional bond with me?"

"You have no fondness for him?" Toshi asked. Spock registered genuine surprise in his normally placid tone.

"I wish him no ill will." Spock said, focusing back on the game.

O'Hara made a move and then suddenly jumped into the conversation. "Spock are you telling us that after _living_ with the guy for _four_ years you have no emotional attachments to him whatsoever?"

Spock raised his eyebrows, both because he was surprised by the question and because he hadn't realized O'Hara had been following the discussion. He was a more formidable opponent than Spock had realized. "I should?" Spock asked.

O'Hara shot back, "Oh, geez Spock. Come on, not even you are _that_ cold blooded."

Spock was about to reply when Toshi said, "Do not evade the comment by referring to your basal metabolic temperature, Lieutenant."

He didn't show any outward sign, but Spock was startled. How did Toshi know that was going to be his evasion tactic?

Spock concentrated, made his move, and then said, "So by proximity alone humans form emotional attachments?" He had thought on occasion that this was the case, but had never sought confirmation. It wasn't a point that had interested him that much, really.

"With time, generally, yes. If there is not undue friction in the relationship. Actually, often even if there is friction."

This explained a lot - why perhaps Cadet Uhura had inferred that their time together _before_ might have generated some affection in him it had not. And maybe partially why the comlink scrambling companion had gotten so emotional after specifically stating that she was strictly interested in only a phyiscal relationship.

Still...it was his ex-roommate Brian they were talking about. Most of their conversations had focused on math and physics. After the comlink incident there had been a few conversations in which Brian had tried to drag Spock into divulging more of his personal activities, along with some one sided lamentations on Brian's part about being less success with females than a Vulcan.

"I accept that. However, he knows no one else in San Francisco at this point. Perhaps it is not fondness causing him to want this contact - just the desire you pointed out earlier of not wanting to be alone. And I still do not understand why he would not feel his time would be better spent in quiet meditation." Spock made another move on the board.

O'Hara made a move, and then looked up at Spock. "You mean he doesn't have anyone else to be with in San Francisco the night before he ships out?"

Spock made a move.

Toshi said, "You are going to take him out, aren't you Lieutenant?"

"I am still taking it into consideration. But I will definitely take this conversation into account," said Spock.

O'Hara moved again, then said, "Spock, you cold green blooded son of a..." he took a deep breath and continued, "human and Vulcan. You are the only guy he knows in San Francisco. You have to take him out for a few beers before he goes and puts his ass on the line for all of us in the neutral zone."

"It is precisely because of the potential risk to his person that I think meditation would be better, to compose his mind..."

As Spock was making his move O'Hara grumbled, "Maybe if he was a Vulcan."

"Are you saying taking him out would be the human thing to do?"

O'Hara made another move.

Toshi entered the conversation again. "It would be the _humane_ thing, Lieutenant Spock. Certainly, variances in human personality might make some humans wish to spend time alone in quiet contemplation...but the fact that he has apparently initiated some attempts at contact suggest he is not that sort of person."

As Spock made his move, O'Hara added, "Yeah, Toshi's right, it would be the _humane_ thing. Take the guy out and get him drunk or something, Spock. Make sure he isn't alone on his last night planet side..."

O'Hara moved.

"You will, take him out, won't you Lieutenant Spock?" Toshi asked.

Spock moved. "I do not wish to be inhumane." He took a deep breath. "I will do it."

O'Hara moved and then said, "I knew you weren't all that bad, Spock!" Then he added, "Oh...and Spock."

"Yes?"

"Checkmate," said O'Hara.

Spock looked at the board. "Fascinating."

**A/N:**

In my story about T'Pring/Spock, "The Girl's Alright", I go into a little more detail about that comm link incident in Chapter 10. (Hee, hee)

If you read and enjoyed, please leave a review. It's the only way fan fiction writers get paid!


	20. Humanitarian Missions

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Humanitarian Missions**

His ex-roommate had chosen the location, thankfully. Spock knew nothing about bars, but this one seemed relatively quiet. It was the kind of place you could have a pint and a bit of a chat as Brian said. There were a few pool tables, but they were empty.

They sat at a booth away from the bar itself, neither was in uniform, which meant Spock had an excuse to dress in clothing heavy enough to be comfortable for a change -- a human black zip turtleneck sweater, soft gray flannel trousers and his standard Starfleet boots. If it weren't for the fact that it was a warm summer night he might not have looked out of place.

Brian was dressed for the weather. It struck Spock that having shared personal space with someone for four years did have its advantages. There were no comments on his turtleneck.

Brian sat facing the door, Spock opposite him. Both were drinking Anchor Steam, Spock tended to mimic the alcoholic consumption of his human companions in situations like this. He was grateful Brian was not a fan of Budweiser Classic.

Although Spock was not an expert at reading human emotions, he had lived with Brian for four years, and could tell his ex-roommate was slightly on edge. It was most unfortunate Brian did not practice meditation, he could have used it. Instead, Spock noted, Brian was spending his last night on earth with the hominid on Earth least qualified to provide comfort for the emotionally distraught. Spock had no idea what to say or do other than to buy drinks.

Fortunately, after some initial uncomfortable silence Brian began doing all of the talking for him.

"...so after being on the research outpost on Epsilon Minor helping Commander Richardson with his research for two years and getting absolutely no credit for my contribution I found my way home for shore leave on the Liberty...and we ran into Klingons at the edge of the neutral zone."

Brian took a swig of beer and continued. "Anyway, apparently there was a bit of a misunderstanding...and shots were fired. It got a little hairy for a bit before things were straightened out."

Spock tilted his head. "And this experience inspired you to go active duty?"

"Yeah," Brian said, "Crazy isn't it? No, you know, seeing the crew in action -- how they all came together. After dealing with academics for two years...all the politics...I decided that I'd rather be shot at by Klingons than deal with petty backstabbing. So I transferred to active duty, I'm going to be a science officer on board the Sugihara.

"Doesn't it ever get to you?" Brian asked.

"What?" asked Spock.

"The politics at the Academy."

Spock looked at Brian blankly. "I have not noticed the politics you speak of."

Brian laughed softly and took another sip of his beer, "Nah, I guess you wouldn't -- one of the nicer things about you Spock. And you've got Commander Sharpton looking out for you. She got you into a lab in record-time, she'll never let anything bad happen to you."

Brian suddenly craned his neck to get a better view of the entrance of the bar. "Hellooooo....what have we here?"

Spock turned to look at the door, four young human women and one very pretty Orion girl had just entered. "Cadet Uhura," Spock said. He wasn't actually addressing her, just stating her name in surprise.

Of course, she heard. She waved, said something to her companions as they set off to the bar, and then walked over to join him and Brian. She was wearing a white top that plunged low and cinched at the waist. She wore a pair of tight fitting Terran navy slacks and navy heels. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders in loose ringlets. It struck Spock that this was the first time they'd seen each other out of uniform.

"Lieutenant Spock," she said smiling.

"Good evening, Cadet Uhura," he replied. He turned to Brian, "Brian, this is my assistant Cadet Uhura. Cadet Uhura, this is Lieutenant Brian Jacobsen, he was my roomate when I was a Cadet."

"Pleased to meet you Lieutenant..."

Brian cut her off, "You can just call me Brian."

"Cadet Uhura," Spock said, "I am surprised to see you here."

She tilted her head. "Not as surprised as I am to see you, Lieutenant Spock."

"But I thought you would be busy with your paper." He said in his most dry voice.

She smiled and shook her head. Then she looked at Brian and said conspiratorially, "Did you know there is no word for 'burn-out' in Vulcan?"

Brian laughed affably, "No, but I believe it. Still...if it weren't for his inability to get burned out I never would have made it through Advanced String Theory."

Uhura turned back to Spock, "The party we were going to go to got closed down by security before it even started."

Spock took a sip of his drink and contemplated this last statement. Closed down _before _it even began?

"We're just here to regroup," Uhura continued. "Anyway, I'm going to go over there and talk to the rest of my girlfriends in the overachievers-not-going-on-holiday-squad...see you around."

As she was leaving, Brian said incredulously, "Over achievers club? No, way! They can't all be that beautiful and intelligent too." Spock looked at Uhura's friends. They were all, in fact, very attractive.

"It is completely illogical to believe that their appearances preclude mental ability," Spock responded. He suddenly wondered if this attitude was part of the reason Brian's success with females was so lamentable. Hadn't Uhura voiced frustration over similar comments by Xelium?

From the corner of his eye he thought he saw Uhura looking back at him as she walked away. Could she overhear? Quite possibly, her hearing was very acute.

Brian seemed not to be listening; he was staring in rapt attention at the girls at the bar. "Uh, huh. So that is your assistant?"

Spock lowered his voice. "I think the pronoun you mean to use is she, not that. And I believe she is listening to us. If you do not wish to offend her or her friends you might wish to speak more quietly."

Brian snapped his attention back to Spock and said in a whisper. "So Spock, does _she_ know you're not as innocent as you look?"

Spock did not answer. Being a humanitarian was getting very trying.

"Oh, come on Spock, I know you...she isn't your usual MO, but..."

"Need I remind you of the regulations on the matter of interactions between commanding officers and subordinates, specifically those relating to instructors and students?" Spock asked in his most monotone voice.

"She's your assistant..."

"For credit, of course."

Brian rolled his eyes. "We all know those regulations are more guidelines. Sort of 'don't ask don't tell'. That's why every year a handful of Cadets wind up magically falling in love with their former instructors and getting married approximately one week after graduation. As long as you are discreet, and we both know you are more than capable of that. If it weren't for that comlink..."

Spock looked up at him sharply.

"Sorry, I know, I promised never to repeat that...and I haven't by the way. To anyone. And I haven't talked about that weird eating thing you guys do, but I don't see what the big deal is..."

"We don't like to discuss it with non-Vulcans."

"Yeah, but it is so _not_-weird, so self explanatory really, which makes it _really weird_."

Spock glared at Brian...who apparently didn't notice, and bounced right back to the previous uncomfortable topic, his eyes slipping once more back to the bar. "And even if you did get caught, you're Sharpton's golden-green boy, you'd probably walk away with a slap on the wrist, maybe minimal observation. Eh, nothin' to lose." Brian took a sip of his drink and stared across the room at Uhura and her friends.

Suddenly Spock realized there was something that angered him even more than the subject of this particular conversation. "Your hypothetical scenario fails to take into account the consequences that would befall the junior officer in question."

"What? Awww...she'd lose her credits, maybe have her graduation delayed. It would hurt her academic reputation...but she wouldn't be expelled or anything." Brian slowly turned his head away from the Uhura and her companions, and looked at Spock with an odd expression Spock could not decipher.

Brian opened his mouth slowly as if to say something, before he could utter a word another voice interrupted.

"You're Lieutenant Spock!" Suddenly Spock found a very scantily clad, green, voluptuous torso far too close to comfort. He looked up at the face attached to said torso. The face was smiling broadly. Spock noticed Uhura was holding on to her green friends arm, his eyes met hers and she mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"Hi, I'm Gaila, Uhura's roommate. I've heard soooooo much about you..."

Spock was wondering about the connotations of this, when Gaila continued, "From Professor Toshi Matsumura! He says you're going to help us with the Kobayashi Maru Project.

"I am in love with Professor Matsumura," Gaila continued. "He is soooooo brilliant, but for some reason he only works with me remotely." She heaved a huge sigh, dangerously jeopardizing the structural integrity of what was passing for a garment on her chest.

Spock was too shocked to say anything.

Gaila giggled. "I would just love to get my hands on Toshi's_ brain!_" She looked slyly at Spock. "Of course, since he is including you on the project that must mean you have a very _big_ brain too..." Then with the hand not holding an unidentifiable cocktail she reached out as though to touch one of Spock's ears. For his part Spock did his best not to recoil in disgust at this very distressing attempt at very inappropriate public physical contact. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw Brian stifling a laugh.

Uhura interrupted. "Ahem, Gaila, this is Lieutenant Spock's friend Brian, Lieutenant Brian Jacobsen."

Spock inwardly cringed at the word 'friend', he knew it was a human custom to refer to even remote acquaintances as 'friends', but it was off-putting. Especially since he had clearly described Brian as a former roommate.

Uhura continued, "Brian and the Lieutenant are just here..."

Brian took over. "We're just out commemorating my last night planet side. Tomorrow I go to the neutral zone."

The hand Gaila was holding towards Spock's ear mercifully dropped, her eyes got big and she turned to Brian. "You're going to the neutral zone...tomorrow?"

Spock turned to Uhura, seeking some clarification. His Cadet was rolling her eyes in obvious annoyance. "Here we go again," she muttered to no one in particular.

She heaved a big sigh then looked at Spock for a long moment. She looked at her other remaining companions across the room. She looked back at Spock, sighed again and shook her head. "I'll be right back," she said.

Spock watched as she went back to talk to her other two companions.

By the time Uhura returned Gaila and her cocktail were parked on Brian's side of the booth. Brian was telling Gaila the same story he had told Spock earlier...although slightly more embellished Spock noticed. Gaila, for her part, kept oohing and ahhing and saying things like, "Oh, that is so brave."

Uhura looked at the seat next to Spock and asked, "May I join you?"

"Be my guest, Cadet." He slid over to make room and noticed that her other three friends were packing up. Uhura seemed...annoyed. She slipped in next to him and crossed her arms over her chest. Her jaw was clenched.

She stared straight ahead, and said in a low voice, "Lieutenant, I'm really, very sorry about this. She kind of feel like it's her patriotic duty to ummm..."

"It is, alright, Cadet, you do not have to explain, even to a Vulcan."

Uhura leaned close and whispered, "But she's interrupted the last night you have with your friend!"

Spock looked at Brian and Galia. They were paying absolutely no attention to him and Uhura.

Spock considered, then switched to Vulcan in order to be properly understood. _"Friend is a very strong word_."

It was actually a common Vulcan expression. For some reason she looked like she was about to laugh, but then she caught herself, tilted her head and said, _"That was not meant to be humorous, or you would not have said it in Vulcan..."_

He nodded in response.

She closed her eyes and nodded, _"The connotations of 'friend' are much more serious in Vulcan are they not?"_

_"Yes, friend implies emotional and intellectual affinity, a life long bond, a willingness to make sacrifices and endure hardships..."_

_"I see. I thought that you being here with Brian on his last night planet side implied more._" She was very close to him now. Although Gaila and Brian seemed lost in their own conversation she was whispering.

Spock almost sighed. He said very quietly, "_He does not know anyone else in San Francisco. It was made known to me that entertaining him on his last night before a potentially dangerous engagement was the..._humane_...thing to do._

_"It is not my first choice to be here, but I do not wish to be..._inhumane_."_ Spock finished.

She looked at him for a long moment, looked at the door, then looked at Brian and Gaila, sighed and said, _"I understand precisely."_

**A/N:**

Reviews are the only way fanfiction authors get paid. So if you enjoyed this, please drop me a line.


	21. Walls of Glass

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**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.  
**  
**Walls of Glass**

Uhura switched to the common lingua franca and said just loud enough for him to hear, "This will go on for another two hours or so," She nodded in Brian and Gaila 's direction. "She likes to form a deep emotional attachment with her...before she..." Uhura said awkwardly. "I'm sorry; I know Vulcans don't like to talk about such things."

"At least they are not being terribly physically demonstrative in public," Spock replied relieved. Gaila did have one hand on Brian's shoulder, and Brian had one arm wrapped around her waist, but Spock, though he found such displays distasteful, had become somewhat inured to them in his time with humans.

Uhura bit her bottom lip, and said tentatively, "Well, not yet anyway..."

There was more uncomfortable silence, "Cadet, I don't know the protocol in these situations...do we stay or leave?"

"Well, it depends...I mean, she might still decide she's not interested. Patriotic duty only goes so far. She can be weirdly selective in her own unfathomable way." She sighed. "And I did hear your friend's comment about our intellectual capacity. He really might be just dumb enough to blow it."

"So?"

"To be humane we should probably wait it out a little bit longer."

Spock was deeply uncomfortable with the situation. He tried to be sympathetic to human and other alien life forms' customs, but he preferred that some of these customs did not intrude upon his immediate vicinity. On the other hand, there had been the episode with the comlink. Brian had been quiet about it…

Uhura was obviously as uncomfortable as he. Her jaw was still set. Her arms were crossed over her chest. She had turned and was now facing Brian again. She actually looked almost angry, Spock thought.

There was another long silence. Finally, Uhura looked sideways at him and said in a voice that sounded almost annoyed, "Isn't that sweater awfully warm on a night like this?"

And then it struck him. Brian and Gaila had eyes, ears, and he strongly suspected hands beneath the table, only for each other. Someone had turned on the music. The bar wasn't so loud shouting was necessary, but all conversations beyond him and his Cadet would be muffled. In a way, he realized, they were effectively...alone.

He could safely attempt to make her laugh.

"Only if you are a cold blooded human," he replied looking at her sideways.

Uhura's jaw unclenched, her arms relaxed a bit, the start of a smile began to slip across her face. She turned to Spock and shook her head slightly. "You are one mad Vulcan, you do know that don't you?"

He wasn't sure he knew anything of the sort, but she seemed more relaxed. And she was smiling -- albeit a little bit.

"And what are you drinking tonight, Lieutenant?" She asked.

"Anchor Steam."

"Anchor Steam?"

"You have never heard of it? It is a beer that has been made right here in San Francisco since 1896, traditionally brewed from an all-malt mash in a copper brewhouse." He said.

Uhura looked genuinely surprised. "Wow! I had no idea you knew so much about beer."

"I do not," he replied. "I read the bottle."

Spock pushed the empty bottle towards her across the table so she could have a look. She took it in her hands and looked at it. She was grinning ear to ear now and shaking her head, "You really are mad."

Spock had no idea what brought this on, or even what it meant. She seemed to be happy. Still.

"Please clarify, Cadet. Mad as in insane, as in enraged, as in ill-tempered, as in frantic? I've already ruled out mad as in wildly merry."

She looked up at him. They were very close, nearly as close as they were under the signal transmission array, and yet, strangely, this wasn't as unnerving. They were alone, but not alone. The ingrained Vulcan distaste for public contact removed any temptation Spock might have had to act out on his attraction to her. But he found he could still enjoy being close to her. It was like there was a glass wall between them, one he could talk through and look through, but never physically cross. Spock decided he liked the glass wall.

"Are you putting me on?" She asked laughing.

Spock raised his eyebrows. "I assure you, I am not teasing you. I am merely looking to clarify the exact definition of the madness of which you speak." This was, of course, all true.

"You're joking with me, aren't you?" She said. "Isn't that insanity coming from a Vulcan?"

"I assure you, I am not insane."

"Isn't that what the insane always say, Lieutenant?" She asked with a smile.

Spock tilted his head and considered. "I do not believe I know anyone personally who is insane. And apparently if I did, you inform me they would tell me that they were not insane -- which would make them very difficult to identify." Apparently, circular logic repeated back to its originator could be amusing, because she smiled again.

"In any event," Spock continued, "I merely wish to speak your language, Cadet. Have you not told me that you make jokes to cut tension? I am trying to do the same."

She gave him a strange look, and then said, "If your intent is to improve human-Vulcan interactions I accept your assurances of non-insanity. And as for my declarations of your madness...I meant it as in 'funny' or 'humorous', so you attained your objective."

"Those definitions are not in my dictionary," He replied checking his mental database.

She clenched her jaw, "Just take it as a complement."

He tilted his head. "Very well. Thank you."

He paused. Was there some human nicety he was forgetting? Ah, maybe. "Cadet, would it be appropriate for me to offer you a drink?" Then he added, "I assure you my intention is only to be polite, not to get you intoxicated."

Two bottles of Anchor Steam later – hers, he was still nursing his first, they were deep into a conversation about the translation of a particular verse in the _T'Kai Lamana Ita_. Spock wasn't sure how they had gotten there, Uhura had said she absolutely did not want to discuss the paper she was finishing up -- and then somehow the conversation had turned around and that was exactly what they were discussing.

At some point Gaila had asked Brian if he'd like to teach her to play pool. Brian had said, "Of course I would, you're really HOT!" Then he had added hastily "...at math. You're really hot at math and I'm sure you'll be great at pool."

Uhura had watched this exchange and said, "Clumsy, but effective recovery. Two compliments really, and one was actually for her brain. He might make it."

Now Brian and Gaila were off together across the room. The pool lesson seemed to involve a lot of physical contact. Spock hardly noticed though. He was too focused on Uhura; the conversation, the contrast between Uhura's warm brown skin and her white top, the impossibly delicate sweep of her clavicles -- Spock had never realized these particular bits of anatomy could be so attractive.

"You know I think that is the answer, Lieutenant. I hadn't considered it before...but that is probably it. Thank you for helping me figure it out."

Spock tilted his head, "In point of fact, I think you reached that conclusion on your own."

"Yes well, thank you for being my sounding board. You're the first person in two weeks whose eyes haven't glazed over when I start talking about this stuff."

"Does this topic generally generate something like the Pavlovian Vulcan Sleep Response then?" Spock said this looking straight at her, he didn't even have to raise an eyebrow -- she laughed easily.

Unfortunately he wasn't sure if this was because he was getting better at the game of making her laugh, or if it was just the effects of the alcohol she had consumed.

Making Uhura laugh _was_ a game to Spock. It was an intellectual exercise like any other. It was all about twisting words in unusual and surprising ways. The rewards of this particular mental exercise were emotional though.

"I guess any topic in too much detail can provoke a Pavlovian Vulcan Sleep Response in humans." Uhara replied.

She changed the subject, "So, Lieutenant, what other beverages do Vulcans like?"

Spock was about to answer when Uhura interjected, "Alcholic beverages, Lieutenant Spock."

That did change his answer. "I enjoy many earth wines, if they are not too sweet. I like the incredible variety, the fragrance..."

"I don't think this is the place for a decent glass of wine. Anything you might find here?"

Spock thought for a moment. Actually...

A few minutes later Spock was staring at an empty shot glass in front of Uhura. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. His own glass was barely touched.

"I did not expect you to drink it so quickly," he admitted.

"How else do you drink whiskey?" Uhura asked. She had, in fact, finished the entire shot in one gulp.

Spock blinked. "It was a Glenfiddich 21 year old single malt whiskey finished in barrels that once contained Caribbean Rum -- I was surprised this establishment even carried any..."

He continued, "I always thought you were supposed to savor it. The aroma alone is wonderfully complex -- sometimes I do not actually drink it, I just enjoy the fragrance. When I do drink I like to roll a sip around on my tongue before I swallow and enjoy the burn. It is an interesting sensory experience."

Uhura looked at him. "Uh-huh...tell you what you get me another, and I'll savor it."

Spock looked at her. "Cadet, you aren't trying to get intoxicated are you?"

Uhura burst out laughing. Spock was not happy this time. Was it too late? She saw his look of concern, took a deep breath, and said finally, "You know what, maybe right now, a glass of water would be better."

Spock was immensely relieved that she was being her usual sensible self.

Just then Brian slid into the seat across from him. Gaila attached herself to Uhura's arm, giggled and said, "Come on, powder room break."

As soon as the two were gone, Brian said, "Spock, I'm....ahhh....kind of sorry about tonight. I haven't been paying that much attention to you."

"That is quite alright, Brian," said Spock. Brian's voice was a little crackily.

"You really don't mind that I ah...."

"Not at all," replied Spock. When would this conversation end?

"I think I might be leaving in a few minutes...with Gaila. You don't mind?"

"Do not worry about it. I am glad that you are having a," Spock searched for the appropriate word, "memorable last night planet-side."

"Ahhh...man, you are the best friend ever!" Brian exclaimed.

Spock sighed inwardly. He hoped he wouldn't have to do more entertaining next time Brian had shore leave.

Spock looked Brian straight in the eye, neither confirming nor denying the other man's last statement. "Have a good mission, Brian," he finally managed.

Brian smiled at him, "And good luck with your research, Spock."

Spock looked around. The bar had gotten crowded and he couldn't see the wait person. He looked back at Brian and said, "Please excuse me, Cadet Uhura requested a glass of water. I think I will go to the bar."

Brian still smiling winked at Spock in a very disturbing fashion then waved him away.

It took a while to procure a glass of water. By the time he got back to the table Brian and Galia were no where in sight, but Uhura was not alone.

**A/N:**

Reviews are how fanfiction authors get paid. If you enjoyed this please let me know!


	22. Cold

=====================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Cold  
**  
Standing at the table above Uhura was a human male Spock did not recognize. The bar was noisy; he was practically at the table before he overheard the conversation.

"...come on, you can't be having any fun," the man was saying to Uhura.

"I assure you my present company is quite acceptable," Uhura replied. Spock could tell she was clearly agitated. Spock was becoming agitated too.

In one more step Spock was at the table. He set down the glass of water a little too hard. He was at the side of the booth across from Uhura, but he did not sit down. The man talking to Uhura turned to look at Spock, he smiled and then turned back to Uhura, "Come on, ditch your chaperone..."

"Pardon?" Asked Spock.

The man turned back to Spock. They stood eye to eye. Neither blinked. The other man said with a smile, "Hey, what? Are you going to do a Vulcan nerve pinch on me?"

"That would be excessive. A slow squeeze to your brachial plexus would be just as effective and..._exquisitely_ painful. Would you like a demonstration?" Spock asked in his most practiced monotone. He was furious.

The man's mouth dropped a little. Spock tilted his head.

After less than a heart beat the other man swore a little and muttered, "Psycho." Then he left without a backward glance at Uhura.

Spock sat down gently. Inwardly he composed his mind. The element that had triggered his anger was gone, and he felt his calm trickle back.

It occurred to him he was probably getting a little territorial. Actually, if he considered both Vulcan and human psychology it was probably a very natural response to having an emotional bond to a female. It was just a quirk -- like having too deep an appreciation of her clavicles, an extra complication of having a female friend and not being fully Vulcan.

A Vulcan could have been just as protective, if they thought the situation logically dictated it, but a Vulcan would never have described anything as 'exquisitely painful'. He wondered where that expression had come from. He would need to meditate on it.

These thoughts raced through his mind in an instant. He looked up at Uhura. She hadn't touched the glass of water. Spock pushed it across the table to her. She looked a little startled, and took the water gratefully.

"Wow." She said softly. "Maybe I am a little drunk. I almost thought you were angry there. But...you were just psyching him out..." She sounded a little uncertain -- but didn't probe the matter. A helpful side affect of slight intoxication he could not have anticipated.

She took a sip. "You handled that a lot better than the guys at the bar a few weeks ago in Iowa. It got really violent, I was afraid they were going to kill the poor jerk who had been hitting on me."

Spocks eyebrows shot up. Bar in Iowa? Poor _jerk_? What guys?

She saw his expression. "Remember I went on that day long training mission with Captain Pike? He is fantastic. It is so amazing that he takes Cadets out on exercises when the Farragut is planet side for repairs...

"He took us all out to a bar, in Iowa of all places, when our exercise was completed. Four ensigns attacked some hick who was being a little too friendly...long story, lots of blood, you probably don't want to know."

Spock nodded, "Probably not." Then he said, "Cadet, I believe you said that you wanted to meet your other companions later this evening. May I walk you to the shuttle stop?"

"Yes, thank you, that would be great."

Spock had once heard it said that if any Terran holy books had been written in San Francisco they would have had a commandment, "Thou shalt dress in layers."

As they walked out of the bar he was able to put that saying in context. The temperature had dropped precipitously. He even felt the chill through his sweater. Uhura may have been a cold blooded human, but she was dressed much more scantily than him. And she wasn't as good at internal thermo-regulation, very few humans were he had found. She was visibly shivering and rubbing her arms with her hands to keep warm.

Still, she was in a good mood. "So," she asked, "Does Brian think you are his best friend ever?"

Spock was walking next to her, his arms in their usual position behind his back. He tilted his head at this comment. If he could laugh he might have. "You are amazingly perceptive when it comes to human emotions, Cadet. Unfortunately, he said something to that effect.

"I just hope..." he began, then stopped. Hope was almost an emotional word.

"That he doesn't want to come visiting next time he has shore leave." Uhura finished.

They looked at each other.

He nodded. "Exactly. Although...Does this mean that I succeeded at my humanitarian mission, Cadet?"

"I don't know Lieutenant. I think maybe Gaila succeeded at your humanitarian mission."

"Do I deserve partial credit at least?" Spock asked sincerely.

They'd reached the shuttle stop. Uhura stood facing his direction. She was so cold she was visibly shaking. She considered his question and said, "Well, you did buy him a few beers -- so I guess you get a few points."

Spock did not like to see her so uncomfortable, it was actually frustrating to see her shivering. He looked side to side and considered. They were off duty. They were not in uniform. There were not drawing any attention in particular. And what he was thinking of doing was certainly not prohibited by any regulation. Without even asking he unzipped his sweater and peeled it off. He was perfectly presentable beneath it, a long sleeve black shirt with high collar even a Vulcan would not feel indecent in.

He handed his sweater to Uhura. "Take it," he said.

She laughed. "No, I'm the cold blooded human, remember?" She did not move.

"Take it, Cadet." He actually was a little annoyed, she was so obviously cold. He looked at her square in the eye. "I am very good at regulating my internal temperature. You are not. It bothers me to watch you shiver. Please, take it."

She looked at him confused. Then reached out took the garment from him and swung it over her shoulders in one easy motion. It dwarfed her of course. "Thank you, Cadet," he said tilting his head.

The problem was solved. But she looked uncomfortable for some reason. She looked down at the ground for a long moment in silence. Then she said, "No, thank you. Now you're cold, though."

"No, not really. I have already adjusted my internal thermostat. It takes more...physical resources...than simply covering up. But I'm not particularly cold." Spock explained.

She said nothing for a long moment, just looked straight at him. Finally she said, "You know, I really think tonight I'd rather just go home. I don't particularly feel like being out. I think it might be better for me to get some rest."

"That sounds like an excellent idea." Then he remembered her response to a statement he had posed earlier -- she'd smiled. He would try that tact again; he was fairly certain it fit under the form of humor known as 'teasing'.

"Then you will be in better shape to finish that paper, Cadet."

She looked at him with a confused look on her face. Then she tilted her head and said softly, "You're teasing me aren't you?"

He raised an eyebrow.

She laughed. "You are! You are! You HAVE been teasing me all evening, haven't you?"

"Not all evening," He replied. In fact he noted, if he had been teasing, it had been mostly unintentional. He mentally scoured their conversations earlier to see which could be considered teasing...and realized she'd laughed during most of them. Another mental game.

She tilted her head, and said with a quizzical smile. "Vulcans don't...tease."

"But I am only half Vulcan."

She was quiet for a moment then asked, "You're really not cold?"

"I am not cold. And a trait I do have from my Vulcan half is an almost near inability to lie."

She gave him a wicked half grin, "Of course, a liar would say that."

"You are teasing me now." He said perking up. This was exciting. A game played by two was almost always more stimulating.

"Yes.... I'm not cold anymore," she said, shrugging under his sweater. "Waiting for the shuttle takes almost as long as walking back to the dorm. And a walk might clear my head a bit...would you, like to...?"

Ah, Spock realized he could anticipate the end of her thought. How pleasant. "Would I like to walk?"

"Exactly, Lieutenant."

"Yes. I would, I can stop by the lab and run one more simulation." A thought struck him. "Unless you will require the lab for sleep?"

"No, it's not day twenty. This is just her normal, promiscuity...she'll have her head about her enough to go someplace else."

"Very well," Spock replied.

"So Professor Matsumura and Lieutenant Commander O'Hara are the ones who set you up to take Brian out? Those two jokers." Uhura said. She was walking at his side, her upper body and a good deal of her lower portion still engulfed in his sweater.

"So was it wrong for me to do so?" Spock asked.

She shook her head, "No, it was the right thing to do. I mean, he really is going to go out there and put his life on the line for us, he deserves respect for that. And he seems clueless, but not entirely bad."

"I am pleased I did the right thing. In general, I do not find Brian's company very memorable, I have no particular fondness for him, but I don't believe he is 'entirely bad' as you say.

"Professor Matsumura and the Lieutenant Commander pointed out to me that after four years Brian, as a human, probably had some fondness for me, just due to our proximity." Spock continued, "Vulcans do form emotional attachments...and friendships...but not that easily."

He continued. "It was a...revelation. It explained a great many things to me. I suspose, had I not taken him up on his offer to meet, that perhaps it might have caused him some small emotional distress. I do not wish to purposely cause distress in situations such as these."

"I know you don't, Lieutenant." She looked at him sideways, he met her gaze for a moment then turned away. This was perhaps further down this particular line of thought than he should go. Still, he was grateful for her words.

She changed the topic for him. "So you don't mind them cheating at 3D chess?"

"It isn't cheating if they're honest about it." He looked sideways at her and raised an eyebrow. She smiled and he continued. "I appreciate the challenge, actually. It was the first 3D chess game I've lost since coming to Earth."

"I can understand wanting a challenge, and wanting to be evenly matched. I'm taking Trill 101 next semester, a basic introductory course...but I'm so excited!"

Spock was surprised. "I didn't know Starfleet offered Trill, they aren't even part of the Federation yet. They are the species with the symbiont relationship, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are the ones with symbionts. And no, Starfleet doesn't offer Trill, until now. _No one_ offers Trill. The professor will be inventing the curriculum as he goes, I guess. In this class I'll be the same as everyone else, no advantage what so ever. I'm so thrilled."

Spock considered, "Would it be teasing to mention that your aural acuity and your already dense neural networks in the language region of your brain make that statement about not having an advantage somewhat inaccurate?"

She looked at him and gave a half smile, "Yes, it would be teasing. But in a good way."

They were close to her dorm, at the place they had stopped a few months ago. Uhura turned and said, "I'm fine from here."

Spock stopped just a few feet away. They regarded each other quietly for a moment. Then she said, "You know, Lieutenant Spock, this was not the night I had originally planned. But I had a surprisingly good time. You helped me resolve the mental block I was hitting with regards to my paper, I became familiar with one of the native beverages of San Francisco, tasted 21 year old whiskey..."

"Tasted seems hardly the appropriate word..." Spock interrupted tilting his head.

She acknowledged this with a smile. "Next time, maybe."

She continued, "I definitely had good company...I had fun." Spock isn't sure, but he thought he registered some surprise in her voice as she said that.

"It certainly was an interesting evening, Cadet Uhura," Spock replied. He was thinking not just of their conversation, but of glass walls, and latent territorial instincts.

She looked down at the sweater she was wearing and paused a long moment. "You know Lieutenant, if you would feel comfortable with it, on occasions like this, when we are off duty...you may refer to me by my first name, Nyota."

Spock is thrilled. He immediately thinks of Patrick and Toshi, although he realizes the limitations of this metaphor.

He acknowledged his elation by tilting his head. Then replied, "And you may call me Spock."

She unzipped his sweater, softly slipped it off, and held it out to him by the collar on one finger -- a manner he noticed limited the potential for physical contact between their fingertips. "Thank you for letting me borrow this."

"You are welcome."

"Goodnight, Lieu...Spock"

He nodded at her. "Goodnight, Nyota."

He watched her enter her dorm, slipped on his sweater and headed to the lab to wrap up one final simulation. He also mentally rearranged his schedule to allow time to learn Trill.


	23. Tidy Piece of Blasphemy

=======================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Tidy Piece of Blasphemy **

Spock didn't see Uhura again before the term began. But she did send him her paper to review. He read it, of course. It was nearly perfect. A few nuances of translation that might be open to slightly different interpretation that he noted, but nothing more.

It was of course, sacrilege. Her paper only focused on the comparison of the ancient emotional proto-Romulan and logical proto-Vulcan translations of the _T'Kai Lamana Ita._ But she did something no Vulcan, nor any Romulan he knew of had done. She acknowledged although the differences in interpretation could have been cultural, but she suggested they might also have been biological.

Which implied the great event of Vulcan, the conscious adaptation of Surek was not a colossal event of collective free-will, rather it was a natural progression dictated by some innate biology. It suggested the greatest act of 'reason' that Vulcan had ever known was not based on 'reason' at all. For a people whose whole ethos centered on their acceptance of logic due to the merits of their intellect it would be...devastating, inflammatory, heresy.

It was not orthodoxy shattering, it was not all inclusive, and only the work of a xenolinguist. Geneticists would have to pick through the ancient genomes and biologists might have to recreate and probe the neuroanatomy of proto-Vulcans and Romulans for there to be proof. But if not orthodoxy shattering, it was certainly a crack in the established canon.

The subject did make Spock deeply uncomfortable. But despite how uncomfortable the topic made him her argument was so _logical_...and Spock couldn't help but think any logical argument deserved to be heard.

Uhura had added his name to the numerous acknowledgments; this was only honest and proper form. He noticed that the only other Vulcan acknowledged in this tidy piece of blasphemy was T'Lan -- he was sorry he hadn't gotten the chance to meet her.


	24. Vulcan Transmissions

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.  
**

_If you want another *quick* Spock/Uhura fix please check out my other stories - Irony and Honor thy Love._

_Thank you JAGNikJen for the grammar help!_

**Vulcan Transmissions**

The first transmission came the day of Uhura's return.

His cadet had come in for a morning shift in the lab. He had prepared a statement. The first words out of his mouth were, "Welcome back, Cadet Uhura. At ease."

He immediately followed up with what was his more typical greeting. "I have a number of planetary phenomena that I would like to start investigating, you should find them on your PADD. Shall we speak Andorian today?"

Spock surmised that because they were now on a first name basis, at least away from the Academy, he was safe to do something quite bold, for a first day back anyways. Just before she ran out for a class in the afternoon he said his next prepared statement -- in Andorian, of course. _"We should celebrate the submission of your paper with lunch. Perhaps tomorrow? We both have a break from 12:30 to 14:00."_

She'd smiled, a real smile, not one of her professional office smiles. _"Of course, Lieutenant Spock. Where should we meet?"_

_"Shall we meet at _Francescas? _It is close to your previous class, Cadet Uhura."_

He looked forward to using her first name again. As she left he also realized how much he looked forward to having her help again, his pace had slowed over the summer break, that morning he had gotten so much more done. The practical and the emotional are not mutually exclusive.

It wasn't long after the sound of her boots disappeared down the hall that his visual comm began to blink alerting him of a transmission from his home world.

He was more than a little curious. Although subspace messages from other planets were not unheard of in his lab, they were still rare. Subspace signals required a lot of power on both ends, and so they had to be relayed through a central receiver and transmitter. They tended to be used sparingly for non-official purposes, and tended to be scheduled.

Touching the console to answer he found himself face to face with T'Lan.

The first thing that struck him was her age. He recognized her from his brief scan across the room at the Symposium, but he hadn't been close enough to really observe her then. He realized now that deceptively upright posture and jet black hair had made her appear middle aged from afar. Up close she was perhaps the oldest Vulcan he had ever met.

"Greetings, Spock. I am T'Lan," she said in the lingua franca as he answered the transmission.

Faced with an elder and a call from Vulcan he automatically shifted to Vulcan himself, and used the most honorific. _"Pleased to be receiving your missive respected one."  
_  
"Speak in the common lingua franca please, Spock, without formality. My time in the universe is too short to bother with Vulcan politeness."

She then began without further ceremony. "I noticed that your name had been added to the acknowledgements on Nyota Uhura's paper. I was curious to know how great a role you played in shaping her ideas."

"My part was limited to some slight modifications of nuance in interpretation and to being a sounding board...that is to say -- "

T'Lan said, "Yes, yes, I know many humans have the unfortunate inability to process thoughts internally from time-to-time.

"So you modified some translations, listened to Ms. Uhura's ramblings and let yourself be added to this controversial paper without reservations?"

Spock tilted his head. "I found the subject matter...uncomfortable, but also novel. The factual information is correct, the logical arguments are sound. In such a case I believe even controversial ideas should be heard. Further, it is only proper form in human dissertations to acknowledge contributions such as mine. It would be emotional to insist on having my part hidden for fear of controversy."

"Then we both agree the paper is both deserving of attention and more importantly, logical. Moreover, neither of us reacts emotionally to controversy. You are more Vulcan than many Vulcans Spock."

Then she added, "Although I would think you are quite used to controversies in Vulcan evolution by now."

"I am sorry, I am afraid I do not understand your last statement," Spock said.

"Really?" asked T'Lan. "How fascinating. You don't see the significance in the latest divergence in Vulcan evolution being mentioned on a paper that at its heart is about Vulcan evolution?"

"I am afraid I do not take your meaning." Spock replied.

T'Lan said nothing for a moment, she just stared at Spock. There was no emotion on her face. "You don't understand what you are then. That is fascinating in itself. You are the latest branch in the Vulcan evolutionary tree, Spock."

This was interesting. One of his eyebrows rose involuntarily. "I confess, I have never thought of myself in that way."

"There are others who have. Your success has been somewhat of a consternation to them. A human-Vulcan hybrid would be so much more acceptable as a failure -- or at least, if he chose to live more as a Vulcan."

"I think of myself as primarily Vulcan," Spock replied. "I live by the dictates of logic."

"Yes, but you do so in such a human way, Spock," T'Lan replied. "Your rejection of the Vulcan Science Academy, was unheard of. That you had pursued other options to begin with when you knew your record was nearly perfect, that was very human.

"And I heard about your argument with D'Zorack and his accomplices. How is it that you deduce that human intellect is on par with Vulcan intellect, Spock? Especially when there is so much quantitative evidence that says otherwise?"

Spock felt himself straighten a bit, this was essentially the same question D'Zorack had asked -- and he'd failed to be convincing in his argument then. He suspected it would not help him, but he told her his honest thoughts on the matter. "As individuals they seldom compare to a Vulcan in sheer mental prowess, but as a species they are most competitive.

Further, as individuals they often have great leaps of insight, that while not reached in the same methodical way as our own, show just as much..." He stumbled here. Human endeavors of genius often seemed to come from nowhere. One couldn't really call this intellect, could they? At last he settled on, "...promise."

"It took me over 40 years working among humans at Oxford University to reach that same conclusions. You have reached them in six. Your flexibility of belief is impressive." Her reaction was not what he had expected.

T'Lan continued, "I have noticed, that humans in general tend to be more flexible in their beliefs than Vulcans. You seem to have inherited that intellectual advantage, along with the mental prowess of a Vulcan."

She was silent for a moment and stared at him intently. "It would be most interesting to meet you, to see how your Vulcan heritage and your human heritage intertwine.

"You are a fascinating being, Spock. It will be interesting to see if you are the beginning of a new line. Certainly our very old race set in its ways might benefit from a new beginning. Or perhaps you'll become just another dead branch on our evolutionary tree.

"Please give my regards to your assistant."

And with that she was gone.

The thing about the conversation that stood out more than anything else to Spock was that, for the first time, a Vulcan had suggested his human heritage might carry an intellectual advantage.

xxx

"Wow," Uhura said, "And I thought she was one of the good guys."

They were at lunch and he'd just told her about his call from T'Lan.

The meal had gone well up until that point. The weather was still as warm as San Francisco got, and they'd gotten a table outside.

The first question he asked her upon sitting down was, "Nyota, do you think a toast is in order?"

She'd replied quite sensibly, "Not before lab, and not before it's officially published...Spock."

She'd drawn out his name the first time she'd used it without his title, in a way that was most satisfactory.

"But I will take that as an offer for a drink if it is accepted." She said.

"T'Lan seemed to think it might take a few months, she said it would be a bit controversial. I think I'm not completely clear on the full extent of the controversy, I feel like I understand it intellectually...but emotionally..."

She shook her head. "Humans have been through more belief systems in the last thousand years than Vulcans have been through in their whole existence. Maybe a little shake up is good?

"And considering that it was just a little paper by a xenolinguist who hasn't even graduated I would think the shake up would be quite _little_. In the end my paper just highlights Romulan and Vulcan differences in interpretation of a very old poem. It doesn't prove anything beyond that one ancient race primarily thought emotionally, and another primarily thought logically in the analysis of poetry."

"It is a very small shake up, Nyota." Spock replied. And then a thought occurred to him. "If it had been a big shake up I'm not sure it would be published at all."

Had T'Lan thought of this too? She said that Vulcans could use a new beginning -- was she looking to start a new beginning in intellectual thought on Vulcan? Certainly a small controversy would be the way to do it. He wished he had been able to talk to the older Vulcan more.

"Hmmm....well, I hope I didn't get you and T'Lan into too much trouble by putting you in my acknowledgements," Nyota said.

"Don't worry, Nyota. We are talking about a controversy among Vulcans here. There will be a few raised eyebrows." He raised an eyebrow of his own for emphasis. "We will not be stoned for heresy."

She looked at him sideways, and smiled, a little bit. Then her face got serious. "What about more Vulcan inquisitions?"

Spock tilted his head. "Not for me. I am too removed from Vulcan at this point. For T'Lan, probably, but she seems more than able to handle herself. She contacted me just after you left yesterday. Fascinating individual."

Now Nyota's smile returned. "What, my two Vulcans are talking to each other?"

Spock was not sure he wanted to be just one of her two Vulcans. "Need I remind you I am only half Vulcan. That question is not very precise."

"O.K. then, _my half-Vulcan, _what did you and _my Vulcan_ discuss?"

_Her_ half Vulcan. He would have to meditate on the connotations of that.

"Go on," Nyota said, "Tell me everything."

So he did. He finished up by saying, "She asked me to send you her regards."

That is when Nyota had said, "Wow, and I thought she was one of the good guys."

She shook her head. She was not smiling, nor was she looking at him.

Spock knew the expression, 'good guys,' but wasn't sure he understood its application here. "Pardon?" he asked.

Nyota looked at him. "Spock doesn't it bother you that she seems to want to watch you like a bug under a microscope?"

Spock tilted his head. "I suppose I found her curiosity a refreshing change," he admitted.

"Well, I imagine it beats outright condescension," Nyota replied.

"It was the first time my human heritage has ever been considered an intellectual benefit." Spock said. That comment from T'Lan was still very much with him. "She is truly a fascinating individual. I might find it interesting to put her under a microscope."

She sighed in exasperation. "Vulcans," she said and then shook her head and added, "And half-Vulcans..."

Spock decided to change the subject. "So, how was the rest of your summer break...Nyota." He enjoyed enunciating her first name. "I trust you got into no more barroom altercations?" It was probably not the safest of questions, but he found he had to know.

She smiled. "No, I had no more barroom adventures. Although, if I had, I would have been quite well protected."

Spock snapped to attention. Protected by whom? "Indeed?" he asked.

Nyota smiled a wide lazy smile. "Yes, my brother came to town during my last few days of recess. He is a very effective deterrent when it comes to unwanted advances. He's probably more protective of me than any man I've ever known, after my father of course."

Spock thought he might have to mediate a bit on these last few statements.

xxx

It was later in that first week that Spock and Nyota began receiving more unexpected transmissions to the lab. They were data only, but their content was almost as fascinating to Spock as his conversation with T'Lan had been.

They were requests from Vulcans who had upcoming speaking engagements with humans. They were interested in using his and Nyota's presentation methods -- he had begun to think of his presentation style as _theirs_, after all she had been the instigator.

Nyota looked at the requests and immediately noticed they fit into two categories: requests that started out 'my human colleagues; have instructed me to contact you' and requests that began, 'I heard that your methods dramatically aid human comprehension.'

Spock noticed something else, the Vulcans not contacting him under duress were older, and had typically been working with humans for many years. There were also few requests from Vulcan itself, and no requests from any researcher at the Vulcan Science Academy.


	25. Emotional Complications

=======================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.  
**  
**Emotional Complications**

Nyota's return and the emotional and professional advantages it provided, the transmission from T'Lan, and the contact from his fellow Vulcans were all, if not precisely 'happy' events for Spock, definitely fulfilling.

There was one more event that occurred in the first few weeks that Spock was unsure how to classify. He discovered that his cadet had been quietly stoking another emotional attachment.

Spock was very poor at judging motivations, but even he had been able to intellectually deduce the reason Uhura had taken his assistantship. She wanted to solve the mystery of the 'Romulan' transmission they had found. This had been illogical. There still was not definitive proof that their research would deliver a method of decoding the transmission. And of course there was the matter of its very unlikely authenticity.

Still, for so many months she had worked diligently and patiently at tasks that were distant from the transmission itself. She'd said that she appreciated the skills she had acquired during the course of the assistantship. He supposed that it was illogical to presume from this that she had put her original motivations behind -- but he had.

He had been wrong.

"Lieutenant Spock," Nyota said in the lab one day, "Did you see that Commander Sharpton has finished her background investigation of the transmission we found?"

The Commander had been seeking evidence of a Romulan vessel in satellite data on the date of the transmission. "No, I haven't. When did she complete it?"

"About fifteen minutes ago. She just messaged me. I've been gently hounding her for months to let me know as soon as the investigation was completed."

That was something to contemplate, a cadet, _gently hounding _a Commander.

"I didn't realize you were following the matter so closely." He responded. Spock himself had not been following the matter at all. If there was anything important discovered he was sure the Commander would tell him in good time. The likelihood that the transmission was anything at all was so remote. Investing mental effort in the matter seemed a waste of time.

Nyota continued, "Do you know why the investigation took so long?"

This was a frustratingly vague question, the possible explanations were infinite. "No, Cadet, please enlighten me," he said, seating himself at a console to begin some simulations.

She sat down at a console opposite him. "Because there is _nothing," _she said with a smile.

Spock was confused. Why did this make her happy?

"Nothing, Cadet?"

She laughed, "_Nothing_, there are _no_ official satellite records from that date, no records from Earth telescopes, hardly any unofficial records. Don't you find that odd? During the 1990s several earth governments, not to mention independent agencies were scanning the skies...and that date doesn't exist."

"A lot vanished during the war 70 years after the transmission, Cadet. Especially official records --"

"Because the interim government during and after the war was anti-space travel, anti-science, anti-technology, and run by quasi-religious groups that wanted humans back in the Stone Ages.

"The fact that there are _no_ records from that date suggests that there was something to hide!" She said, hands moving excitedly.

Spock looked up from his console. "Cadet Uhura, need I remind you that the likelihood that the transmission is Romulan in origin is--"

"I know, I know...if it was Romulan we wouldn't be here...or I'd be wearing a little Romulan slave girl outfit..."

Spock tensed. The idea of Nyota in the hands of Romulans was more than unappealing. "Cadet, if that is a joke, I am certain it is not funny."

"I'm trying to lighten the mood...A Romulan slave girl outfit might actually be slightly less revealing than this uniform..."

Spock decided to play along, if it would keep the mood lighter on her end. "Perhaps, Cadet."

He took a breath. "Still, it is very unlikely that the transmission is anything other than an anomaly or, considering its origins, a hoax."

Uhura's jaw clenched. When she spoke her voice was nearly a whisper. "Considering its _human_ origins, Lieutenant?"

Spock looked her dead in the eye and replied, "The 2053 Signal, Table-Top Cold Fusion...Piltdown Man. Need I continue?"

Uhura took a deep breath and looked down. "I guess our track record has been spotty at times."

Her shoulders slumped. Her face went slack. Spock could tell she was upset.

He tried to distract her. "Cadet, did you know that there is a theory that the Piltdown Man hoax was perpetrated by Arthur Conan Doyle, author of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries? If so, Piltdown Man was perhaps the greatest mystery Doyle ever created." This was certainly not an original thought of his own; it was something he'd seen in a documentary.

"Yes, I'm sure that the researchers who dedicated their lives to studying Piltdown Man for forty years, only to find out it was fake, thought it was a wonderful mystery," Uhura replied.

Spock had nothing to say to that.

xxx

Just under a week later Spock returned early from a class he was teaching. Uhura was there a little earlier than usual -- so not officially on 'lab' time yet. That wasn't in itself particularly strange. What was strange was that she was playing recording 180092A over the lab sound system. She wasn't facing the door, she was staring out the window just listening to the static, and then those suspicious clicks and tones. He entered and she didn't even notice.

When the audible part of the recording ended she said without turning around, "Computer play again." She kept her eyes out the window, standing stock still, only slightly more relaxed than if she had been standing at attention.

Once more when the recording ended, she called out, "Computer..."

Spock interrupted this time. "Cadet Uhura, why are you listening to this recording?"

Uhura spun fast in surprise and snapped automatically to attention.

"Lieutenant, I just want to remind myself that it is real."

"How can you deduce from this recording alone that what we are listening to is…real."

"I can't. But he just sounds...sad."

It was an awkward moment for Spock. She was clearly wasting her time on something that was illogical, although technically it had been her time, and he hadn't been in the lab to be distracted by the recording.

Finally he just said, "You realize this is a completely illogical activity?"

"Yes," she replied, "I do."

If she had denied that it was illogical he could have reasoned with her. But she didn't deny it was illogical. She accepted it was and did it anyway.

He realized that she had become emotionally attached to their research, more specifically to the promise of deciphering the 'Romulan' transmission. He wasn't sure how, or if, he should discourage this.

Commander Sharpton's revelation of the loss of the records for the recorded date had noticeably motivated his Cadet.

They were also fairly close to completing their research into subspace signals generated by planets. It looked as though only planetary position in the solar system and the galaxy was important. Planet side events appeared to only minimally contribute to 'solar gossip.'

After they finished with planetary bodies they could focus on solar events. Once they discovered exactly how solar events affected the 'solar gossip' they could begin to investigate the transmission. He'd heard Nyota murmur to herself more than once, "We're getting close."

She had always been timely before, but now she was significantly ahead in her work. She had told him that she had broken down her tasks into those she could do only in lab, and things she could do remotely when she 'had a minute.'

In short, her emotional attachment to the project was putting him ahead of schedule again. Even if the source of her motivation was illogical should he discourage it?

He did mention to her that they were ahead of schedule, and she need not push herself to the point of neglecting her other duties. But ever the efficiency expert, he didn't push it.

Less than two weeks later they were finished with planetary subspace signals.

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone posting reviews and helping me try to keep this story consistent and good. Also thank you Cylobaby for trying to help me increase my readership – this is getting so long I'm afraid it scares people away. I'd love to hear ideas for how everyone would summarize this story to draw readers in.

If anyone out there is interested in a short Uhura/Spock fix I've written two other stories featuring them. I may periodically post more – things that don't fit the story line or are too steamy for the M rating.

As always, thanks for reading. It is a privilege to have you all roaming around my twisted mind.


	26. Beginning of the Fall

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.  
**  
**Beginning of the Fall  
**  
_"You are not alone any longer, Nyota,"_ Spock said, his pronunciation of the alien tongue still accented by Vulcan.

_"You are not alone any longer, Spock," _Nyota replied with a smile, her accent nearly perfect.

It was the Trill standard greeting. Much of Trill culture focused on being paired with a symbiont, there was an undercurrent of escaping 'aloneness' throughout many of their common expressions.

One of the coincidences of their fall schedules was that three days a week Spock got out of teaching in a lecture hall close to the Xenolinguistic Department just as Nyota left her Trill course.

He'd often meet her among the stream of cadets exiting the xenolinguistics building. It was somewhat of a revelation to Spock to see her in what he considered her native habitat. She almost never left the building alone; she nearly always was talking to someone. This was not revealing. What was revealing was how often people she was not talking to were talking about her.

He heard whispers that reminded him surprisingly a lot of his time as a cadet.

_"...not even a third year....already submitted to a Vulcan journal for publication."_  
_  
"… already tested out of Romulan, Klingon...."_

_"...and she works in the Subspace Signal Laboratory...she's presented for..."_

He knew Nyota heard these whispers too. One time just as she approached him he heard, _"She's his assistant. No mystery how she tested out of Vulcan..."_

Nyota straightened up and tensed, biting her bottom lip. They looked each other in the eye. She shrugged. He tilted his head. They turned in unison and headed towards the lab.

Since both of them were on their way to the lab at these times anyway, it was only logical that they should walk together if they happened to run into one another -- which they did 90.5% of the time.

They almost always spent the walk back to the lab practicing Trill. Their Trill vocabulary was limited to the syllabus and materials provided by Nyota's professor. The Trill were such a new species, there really wasn't much on their language, and only a little more on their culture. So they didn't even know the correct Trill equivalents for 'cadet' or 'lieutenant'. They could have said these in the lingua franca of course -- but somehow never did.

Both had gone over the lesson the night before on the online syllabus, although Spock memorized it instantly, Nyota still needed practice -- even after her class. She told him that it would take at least eight times reviewing a word or conjugation in practice for her to remember it.

Since they were only in the beginning stages of their Trill vocabulary, these conversations were very rote in nature, and usually had Nyota firing off at him the latest words and phrases she'd learned in rapid succession. He got a great deal of satisfaction teasing her about being her personal Trill data dump.

After reviewing, she'd try to make him stumble in his pronunciation. He'd try to make her stumble over vocabulary. It was a most enjoyable game for Spock -- a big part of the enjoyment was that he didn't always win.

Besides their Trill walks they were going out to lunch about once a week. Justifications for these meals had gone from 'We have just completed a simulation of twin stars at their solar maximum experiencing simultaneous solar flares -- perhaps we should celebrate' to the more mundane, 'It is an unseasonably warm day. A walk to Francescas would be most agreeable'.

Sometimes if they had no time for lunch they'd just take tea and coffee together in the cafeteria.

After initial protests Spock paid -- most of the time. He thought it was only logical; he was the one with credits.

They talked about many things during these outings: current Federation events, xenophonology and morphology, and evolution in all its forms was a big interest to both of them. He was more interested in it from a biological perspective, Nyota from a cultural and linguistic perspective.

They began talking about more personal things too, or she did. Spock knew about her family -- her older brother was some sort of nuevo-libertarian-capitalist, but Nyota didn't mind.

"Without him to be the real black sheep of the family, my mother might be more interested in me joining the Diplomatic Corp. She is still hopeful that my baby sister will go that way...anyway, my brother uses his language skills for commerce, trade and the accumulation of personal wealth -- or as my parents say, for evil not for good. It's easy for me to look good in comparison."

Spock did not like to talk about his family or his childhood, but he was fascinated by how animated she could be talking about hers.

They also would occasionally go to events and lectures if they had a common interest in them.

In short, they spent a lot of time together, in and out of the lab, and they were often in each others company as they came and went. Walking the halls of his department with his cadet was a bit of a revelation to Spock. Nyota knew everyone it seemed -- cadets, officers, professors, staff, even the woman whose job it was to ensure the cleaning bots were doing their jobs efficiently.

She never forgot to acknowledge anyone. Even if they were deep in some discussion about something technical she would at the very least nod in their direction and give them a smile. Usually, of course, they would nod back at his Cadet, and then at Spock too. Spock took to nodding in return -- it seemed polite. He found once he started doing this with her people began acknowledging him even when he wasn't in Nyota's company.

If Nyota and he were not involved in a heavy conversation, and if they were on schedule, she would often briefly comment to the people on research they were involved in, or on some happy event in their family life.

Her knowledge of every engagement, marriage, and birth in the lives of everyone in the department seemed, to Spock at least, encyclopedic. He was not sure how one individual could keep up with it all. When he asked her about it she replied, "I know it all from gossip. Sometimes it can be good, not evil."

About eight weeks into the semester that Spock began to understand that some of the gossip in the department featured Nyota and him.

They entered the building and Nyota was in the midst of telling him rather animatedly about some research into xenomorphology one of her Professors was doing when they'd run into Xelium.

"Well," Xelium exclaimed walking towards them with his aide Dalang in tow. "If it isn't the two everyone's starting to call the new odd couple."

Dalang was a tiny woman with wizened features that made it impossible to judge her ethnic origins. She was as quiet and effacing as Xelium was loud and imposing. She was not a student, nor a professor, she was a staff member -- Spock had never heard her utter a single word.

Nyota stiffened a little, as she always did around Xelium. But she replied with a smile, "I'm sure that honor will always and forever belong to Lieutenant Commander O'Hara and Professor Matsumura."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Xelium commented, neither he nor Dalang breaking stride.

Spock raised his eyebrows. As soon as they were out of sight he asked, "Odd couple?"

Nyota sighed, "It is a very old expression. I don't think anyone knows how it started. It means a pair of opposites that somehow manage to get along and be friends."

It seemed innocuous to Spock, and fitting. They were opposites in the most visible ways; emotional and logical, extrovert and introvert, human and Vulcan -- or half Vulcan. If he took it further male and female -- but since most humans regarded him as something of an asexual walking calculator, he wasn't sure that comparison applied.

Spock wasn't sure why Nyota stood for a moment staring down the hall as Xelium walked away.


	27. The First Crack

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**The First Crack**

Spock's life was in balance. His research was going well. Teaching was not taking too much of his time. He got along with his coworkers -- especially Lieutenant Commander O'Hara and Professor Matsumura.

He felt like he had succeeded in his goal of friendship with Nyota. He managed his emotions without damaging either of their careers.

It wasn't quite a Vulcan friendship, they joked too much, and she laughed and smiled too much. It wasn't quite a human friendship. Spock was getting to the point where his lips might quirk up ever so slightly, and he would raise his eyebrows, but he certainly never laughed. His hands were usually behind his back or at his sides.

His feelings for his cadet hadn't changed. And if anything he enjoyed Nyota's company more than before. Their conversations were stimulating, whether their purpose was analytical or otherwise. The joking and teasing was a great game. And it was nice to have her to translate human customs and behavior for him. Even if he couldn't completely be human it was nice to have someone explain what was going on.

He was happy in her presence.

The physical attraction was still there. Spock learned to regard it 'as a feature, not a bug', as his computer programming colleagues would say. The attraction added a slight electricity to everything they did together.

If he approached Nyota outside her line of vision, he would appreciate her appearance. He enjoyed the sway of her ponytail, and how it balanced the sway of her hips when she walked. He still had no qualms with the short Starfleet uniform. It caught her legs at just the right height, and accentuated her figure in a most pleasing way.

It presented him with another game, a game of control. He was very careful to keep his eyes on her eyes when they talked, and very careful not to let her catch him admiring her.

He accepted the physical aspect between them, appreciated it, but never let it get the better of him. Still he was able to admit to himself one of the reasons he was able to maintain this control was because they were never really alone. Even in the lab they were never really alone -- his door was always open. His Vulcan disinclination towards physical contact was crucial in maintaining the glass wall.

So they were friends; there was no logical reason that they need be anything more than that. And he felt some satisfaction that he obeyed all the rules.

There were just a few niggling details...

xxx

It was late October. They were inside Francescas. It was their second lunch together in a week, and the grand occasion for this outing was that they both just happened to be hungry…although Spock did have an ulterior motive.

They were speaking in Ferengi. It wasn't one of Uhura's better languages. Spock was counting on this. He had discovered that there was a certain word that would be nearly impossible for Uhura's human tongue to pronounce...it would come out as something quite different in fact. He on the other hand, with his half Vulcan tongue, could pronounce it quite well.

First, the set up.

He said in Ferengi, _"Cadet have you heard of the Ferengi mountain sailing snail? It is a most fascinating creature. Its diet is the blue hemaphoric moss that grows on small stones at nearly 3,000 meters above sea level. As it depletes the moss the moss releases spores, these spores take over a year to restore moss to the original stone._

_However, the spores have a unique effect on the snail. It causes the snail to release enzymes that break down the hard substance of the shell into a substance similar to spider silk. As the moss decreases, the spores increase, and the shell becomes lighter and lighter; by the time the moss is exhausted the snail's shell has become virtually a parachute. The wind in the mountain picks up the snail and deposits it on another stone."_

She looked a little distracted. Excellent.

_"Have you heard of this fascinating creature?"_

_"What?"_ she responded in Ferengi.

_"I asked if you've heard of this fascinating creature."_

_"No, Spock I have never heard of the Ferengi mountain sailing earwax--"_

Her eyes went wide. Her hands went to her mouth. Earwax was, of course, perhaps the lowest obscenity in the Ferengi language. And it was the word that came out when humans tried to say 'snail' in that tongue. Were she an ambassador her career would be over.

_"Pardon?" _he asked.

He watched as she tried to form the correct word, and then realized she couldn't. Her eyes narrowed at him.

He raised an eyebrow.

She switched to the common lingua franca and said in a whisper laced with a smile, "You green blooded, son of a..." She took a deep breath. "...Vulcan and a human. You did that on purpose! If you were not my commanding officer..."

"May I remind you that yesterday you let me pronounce 'economy' in Trill as 'shoes', for nearly twenty minutes."

She started to giggle. "Yes...yes, I did. The conversation was so much more fun that way..."

"Turn about is fair play, I believe they say."

She swished her drink for a moment. "You know, that really was pretty funny, Spock. You won't succeed at it twice though. Not in Ferengi, or any other language."

"I know, Nyota." And he did.

She put her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands. "I can't believe I said that." She started to laugh.

Spock felt the corners of his mouth quirk upwards ever so slightly. She was laughing. It was a victory. He picked up his nearly empty glass of water and took the last sip.

Then he watched as his cadet leaned her head forward so her hands covered her eyes. Her laughter subsided. She said in an almost anguished tone, "Four dates since August and I'm still having more fun with a Vulcan. This is so unhealthy."

Spock's entire body went cold, he was too shocked even to be angry.

Four dates?

His hand clenched. He heard a loud popping noise, almost like the sound of ice cracking. Looking at the glass he was holding he noticed a crude network of cracks had sprung up along the surface. He wasn't that strong, was he?

Lifting the glass to examine it at eye level he said, "There must have been some internal flaw in the design."

Nyota looked at him and then to the cracked glass. Then she crossed her arms across her chest, shook her head, put her hand to her temple and sighed.

xxx

She wasn't 'his cadet'. She didn't belong to him. She was human, and it was very human to explore romantic relationships during this period of her life. He knew many human cadets wound up meeting their life partners while at Starfleet Academy.

If he was going to live by Starfleet rules and Vulcan logic he had to accept that she had a personal life beyond him. That was the right thing and the rational thing to do. It made him feel physically sick

On becoming an instructor he had to take the same seminars on ethics as his human counterparts. The classic response to his situation was, 'if it is love, it will wait.' Of course, in two and three quarter years, when she graduated and he would be free to initiate something she would be gone.

There was a moral issue he was aware of, beyond Vulcan logic and Starfleet regulations. At least while she was his assistant and a student, and he was an instructor and commanding officer, would a relationship ever be truly consensual? He had read that chapter during his courses in human psychology.

If she wasn't his assistant it would be marginally better. Although still against regulations, at least from a moral standpoint he would not have direct authority over her anymore -- although he might still be consulted to give feedback on her assignment after she graduated. Still, what would he do, give her a choice between him or their research? What if she chose neither?

The solution to this problem was to stay the course, no matter what personal choices she made. It was logical. It was moral. It didn't break any Starfleet regulations. And after all, they would still have their friendship -- to a Vulcan, even a half Vulcan, that was a very meaningful, deep and powerful thing.


	28. Shattered

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Shattered**

Nyota was late. It was exactly twelve minutes and forty two seconds after she was supposed to arrive.

She had been late before -- but had always communicated with him as soon as she realized she wouldn't be on time. She had always had good reason, a lecture that ran overtime, or some other official task that she had to attend to.

So this was unusual. And it was an unusual day. Spock had received communication from T'Lan that morning that Nyota's paper had been published at last. He was looking forward to a reason to celebrate.

It had been a week and a half since he'd cracked the glass in the restaurant, and they hadn't been out since. He'd met her twice on her way out of the Xenolinguistics Department, but that was it. In the lab they were almost purely professional, and although he enjoyed her quiet company, he missed her unguarded side.

At exactly fourteen minutes and thirteen seconds after Nyota was scheduled to arrive she entered the lab. She stood at attention and spoke in her smoothest professional voice. "Lieutenant Spock, I would like to apologize for my tardiness."

He stood up from his console and regarded her. Her uniform was neat, she didn't have a hair out of place, as was usual -- but her eyes were puffy and red. He had seen human's cry before, even been the cause on occasion.

Shifting on his feet a little in discomfort he considered what the proper response would be. Should he read her the rule book on the penalties for lateness? No, she knew the rules. And this was a far from common occurrence; he had some leeway in the discipline department. Instead he said, "At ease, Cadet. Perhaps you would like to tell me the reason?"

"I think Lieutenant, that I would prefer to get to work," she replied. He didn't know if he was relieved or troubled by this. She did not look him in the eye.

"Very well. But first I would like to congratulate you on finally being published, Cadet. I believe I owe you a glass of wine and a toast. Perhaps we can go out later and celebrate?"

Uhura looked at the ground. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I don't think that today is good idea. Maybe some other time..." Her voice was very soft.

He stiffened. "Very well, some other time then."

Nyota didn't look up. "I'd like to look for sentient transmissions that occurred during Sol's last plasma storm." She moved to sit down at a console.

Spock sat down across from her to focus on his own tasks. He didn't look at her, but he did listen.

In the first hour he heard seven just barely audible sighs and heard five deep intakes of breath – the type of deep intakes a female human would make when trying to contain a sob. It had been a while, but he did recognize the sound. Nyota did these almost imperceptibly; if he were human he doubted he would have noticed.

Venturing to observe a few times he noticed she was not crying, and she did an admirable job of staying on task.

They didn't speak much as they worked as a rule, but she said even less than usual. Usually her hunt for appropriate sentient transmissions revealed something interesting she shared with him.

She stayed late at the end of the day without being asked, of course. As it got closer to her time to leave he noticed her catching her breath again, although her eyes stayed dry.

She was clearly still upset. It was quite possible that what was troubling her was a personal matter. Considering there last real conversation there was a good chance that he did not want to know the matter. But, if one was to be friends with a human maybe one had to face these things head on?

He checked his internal clock, it was 17:20. At 18:15 Professor Matsumura would come by to discuss some new subroutines they'd been developing for the Kobayshi Maru. He had some time. He decided on a course of action.

As she stood to leave, he stood too, his hands behind his back. "If you need to discuss what is bothering you, I am available...Nyota." It was the first time he's used her name in the lab. It felt uncomfortable, and highly irregular.

She looked him in the eye. "Are you worried that my emotions will effect my productivity?"

"Actually...I have not been considering your productivity in this matter." He tilted his head. It was odd that he hadn't thought about it.

Nyota looked at him, for a long moment and folded her arms in front of her chest. "May we talk in your office?"

His gaze went to the door of his office and back to her. This was getting much more awkward. After a long moment he inclined his head in the direction of the office door and said, "After you."

Nyota entered with him just a few paces behind her. Without turning she said, "You might want to close the door."

Spock did not want to close the door. It would mean being alone with her, really alone, and that was something he hadn't done since that night when he had lost control. He checked the lab, and listened for the sound of footsteps down the hall. He was satisfied they would not be overheard. "Cadet, I believe our privacy is secure." He stood by the entrance though, just to be certain.

Nyota shrugged, and then turned so she was looking out the window over his desk.

"It was hardly a formal accusation…but today as I was leaving the Xenolinguistics Department I overheard an aide down the hall..." She tilted her head, her lips got tight and she drew her eyebrows together. "She suggested to a number of cadets that my paper had been written by my Vulcan boyfriend."

Spock pushed the button to close the door.


	29. The Appearance of Impropriety

=======================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**The Appearance of Impropriety**

Spock put his hands behind his back. "This is not a formal accusation?"

"No, it is not a formal, accusation. And it is highly unlikely that it will ever be a formal accusation. It was just gossip from a jealous fourth year."

Spock decided to ascertain the charges could never became formal. Cheating was the more serious charge, punishable by expulsion. "I presume that you have kept careful records of all your research and interactions with your advisers, including myself?"

"I did. There is no way any accusation of cheating would stick."

Then there was the other matter. "Nyota, our conduct since our initial indiscretion has been exemplary. Certainly, I have not discussed that event with anyone, as I am certain you have not."

She looked at him, "I haven't talked to anyone at Starfleet about it."

He inclined his head sharply.

Nyota caught the unease in his movement. "I told my brother, and left out the part about you being a commanding officer and instructor."

"I see."

"I'm human. I needed to talk to someone I could trust. He may want to kill you, but he would never endanger my Starfleet career."

That was not precisely comforting. His jaw clinched involuntarily.

"Relax; he wouldn't talk about it to anyone...even if he knew the whole truth."

It was actually very difficult to prove improper conduct. Holograms and pictures were too easily faked; for a formal charge to be made the accused almost needed to be caught in flagrante delicto by a superior officer, by more than one witness, or by the authorized Academy cameras staggered about the campus in public spaces. Some other forms of physical evidence were admissible, but not applicable in this case.

"Then it is highly unlikely that there is any basis, even hear say, for any charge of improper conduct between us...the accuser would need proof for there to be a formal charge. The charge of cheating is demonstratively false. There is nothing to worry about." Spock felt immensely better, the problem was solved.

Nyota closed her eyes, and let herself down into the chair Spock kept opposite his desk.

He was missing something. There was an emotional undercurrent to this conversation that was slipping by him.

Scanning his memories he searched everything he had read about human psychology. Remembering that physical barriers like desks were intimidating, he walked behind his desk and then swiveled his chair out. He placed it a few feet in front of where Nyota sat.

Sitting down and resting his hands on either side of his lap, Spock looked across at her. She was not looking at him.

"So this accusation made you..." He searched for the words. Should he allude to her crying, mention lachrymal glands, tear ducts? Or should he stick to the emotions elicited? At last he finished weakly, "...unhappy?"

Nyota eyes shot to him and her brow furrowed. "Unhappy? Unhappy?" Her arms unclasped and her hands flew up in the space between them. "No, it didn't make me unhappy! The accusation of cheating made me _furious_, Spock! To have my hard work attributed to someone else made me mad as Hell. I confronted the woman right then and there, offered to show her my notes...Terrified the cadets she was talking to...That is half the reason I was so late!"

Shaking her head she looked away from him again. She folded one arm against her chest, with the other hand she massaged her temple.

Half the reason. Spock was sure she hadn't been crying tears of fury. In the lab when he heard her catch her breath he had detected no signs of anger. "Something else is making you...upset." He said quietly.

Nyota did not look at him. The hand massaging her temple fell.

"People are talking, Spock. It isn't good for either of our careers, even if our conduct is exemplary. Even if there is no formal proof...it is still...undesirable. We should keep our relationship strictly professional and strictly in the lab."

What? Spock went cold.

On Vulcan their friendship would only be an issue if conduct was unbecoming. But at least since that one night he had done everything above the board. They _never_ touched. They were never _really_ alone together...up until now even his lab and office doors were always open. And if in their conversations she laughed too often and smiled too much she could be excused, she was human. _He _never laughed, smiled or visibly displayed emotion.

But he was not on Vulcan, he was on Earth. He had followed all the rules as he understood them - of both Vulcan and Earth, and still he was going to lose her because of a human inability to refrain from idle chatter and the 'appearance of impropriety', as humans called it.

He felt his face begin to flush.

"I find this option...unacceptable." Did those words come out of his mouth? They were emotional, and immoral considering the compulsion his rank put on her.

Nyota looked at him hard, and tilted her head. For a moment she looked angry. Then she sighed and continued slowly, "But it's more than that, Spock. I'm way too attached to you, my mad, half Vulcan." Her eyes were bright as though with tears, but she didn't cry.

Spock intellectually understood the insult to her achievement caused by the accusation of cheating. But the charge seemed so baseless...random even. And even Nyota seemed to dismiss it as the real reason for her concern. She was furious, but it was only part of the problem.

And he intellectually understood the potential damage to her reputation being labeled in an inappropriate relationship could cause. Spock realized that sometimes humans based decisions on unproven, illogical factors like gossip. He was uncertain of the statistical likelihood of this, however.

But when it came to her being too attached to him...Weren't friends by definition emotionally attached? He was _her_ half Vulcan, mad or not...and she was _too_ attached? _Too_ attached was maddeningly unquantifiable. "I am confused by this statement." Spock said tilting his head and looking straight at her.

"I know you don't feel like humans do Spock. I accept that, it is o.k. But I am human. I am too attached. At this point it is not emotionally healthy."

Not emotionally healthy? She had said these same words the other day. What did they mean?

Spock's jaw clinched. He knew he was losing her. He understood that he also really had no idea what was going on inside her. He often depended on her to explain what was going on. Now he was guessing, and he was tired of it.

There was an option.

"Nyota, it has come to my attention that I may lack a certain amount of...empathy, but I am interested in understanding this situation."

"Spock, it's okay, I just don't know if I can explain right now..." She put her hands on her knees, a motion she often made just before she was about to stand up.

Lifting his left hand he extended two fingers towards her right temple. "May I?" he asked.

Her head jerked. She stared at his fingers, and then looked at him. She finally let her body relax. "Okay...Go ahead," she replied.

Spock hesitated, telepathic touch wasn't expressly forbidden by Starfleet regulations if it was consensual. But in this context, by Vulcan standards..."Nyota, with your permission I am going to ask the computer to obscure the window - this doesn't violate Star Fleet regulations...but..."

"It probably violates Vulcan protocols about personal contact...or public contact...or both...It's fine Spock."

"Computer, obscure window," Spock said. Following Vulcan rules of keeping everything in the open had gotten him into trouble lately, he was done with them for now.

A light screen shot up across the inside of the windows. Usually it was used for blocking sunlight, but it was effective enough for privacy had anyone been watching.

As the room became slightly darker and the light dappled, Spock reached out and touched her temple. Not in a mind meld, he didn't want to hurt her, just the mind touch he'd used before.

Nyota let her eyes close as his fingers touched her skin.

This time instead of sending feelings he merely felt...a swirling mass of everything inside of her, but he was skilled enough to be able to pick out the emotion that dominated at that exact moment.

_Curiousity..._

"I don't get to bump minds with a telepath everyday." Nyota said.

Spock felt his lips quirk. Despite Nyota's emotional state curiosity was apparently one of the reasons she was allowing him to touch her mind...an interesting personality trait.

And Nyota saw what he felt in her and was providing narration. No one had taught her to do that. For someone studying communications maybe it was quite logical? Fascinating.

And then part of what was really bothering her came to the forefront...

_Loss, sadness, confusion..._

Nyota didn't narrate these feelings for him, she didn't have to. He understood Nyota did not want their non-professional relationship to end.

She trembled. There was something worse...

_Cold, emptiness..._

He recognized the feelings instantly, or rather, remembered them. He'd felt them before from Nyota. With a flash of understanding he knew they were what she expected from him now. It was actually a quite rational expectation, considering their last encounter, and certain conversations they'd had since then.

He weighed his options in his mind. There were two choices he could make. Neither guaranteed that they would not choose to break off their non-professional relationship, but he was tired of not understanding, and tired of being misunderstood.

"Nyota," he said, "Bump back."

**A/N:**  
This was a hard chapter to write...you all almost had to wait until tomorrow. But I think it is done now. I hope you enjoyed it.


	30. The Vulcan Comes Out

=======================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

The Vulcan Comes Out

He could have broadcast emotions to her, but she knew he could manipulate that kind of contact. So he just let her make her own way. Across the link he perceived from her...

_Fear,_ _wonder, curiosity, suspicion..._

And then he felt her reach across the divide and look for that same thing she sought before.

She wasn't a skilled telepath, how could she be? She couldn't pick out one thing, she felt everything at once. She felt what he felt for her...in the mirror of her mind he saw it was just a mass of unformed emotion. She gasped. And he felt her...

_Bewilderment_, _shock._..

He realized the dense knot of love, happiness, anger, gratitude, affection, jealousy, satisfaction, frustration and desire she'd just seen in him was perhaps a little disconcerting.

He hoped at least she would be comforted knowing he was not empty or cold...And then he suddenly felt...

_Happiness..._

The emotion was raw...it wasn't a mind meld after all. And it was surprising. It was the emotion he often sought to elicit from her and looked to see verified in a smile or laughter. Now he was experiencing it first hand -- not seeing it as a visual cue.

To feel her happiness was more than fascinating. Spock couldn't help but echo her feeling and let it slip back across the link. His eyelids closed and for a few minutes she didn't speak, he didn't think, and they existed in a happiness feedback loop. It felt natural to slip his chair forward, so he was closer to her, and he felt her leaning closer to him.

In those moments he wasn't half Vulcan or half Human, there was no war with logic in his mind, even the usual physical attraction he felt for her was dampened, despite the intimate contact. It was good to just be.

This simple touch was barely telepathic, it was more empathic, but he experienced it even more deeply than the bonding he had so long ago with T'Pring.

Feeling soft cool fingers reach up brush his temple and trace the outline of his jaw he opened his eyes. Nyota's face was just inches from his own. "I thought I might have just been going crazy, I thought maybe you felt something for me..." She shook her head. "But last time I bumped around in there, it was so cold."

He felt a moment of confusion across the link as she relived the memory.

She was close to him and he was beginning to be affected by her proximity. Spock wanted to kiss her, but there were still so many unresolved issues. He swallowed and managed to say, "I was not endeavoring to confuse you. I only wished to...establish a relationship that would not damage either of our careers. It was...is...not logical to pursue more." He did not look her in the eye.

More was not logical, no matter what his feelings were on the matter.

Although...if this simple, primitive link affected him more profoundly than a mind meld....

Across the link he felt...

_Resignation..._

Nyota gently cupped his jaw in her hands. "Of course not. You are Spock."

_Acceptance..._

She sighed, "My Spock..."

His face went flush and his pulse increased. He looked down to her eyes. She looked so serene, like she had that night after she discovered he had no feelings for her.

Her...Spock.

Dropping his fingers he quickly ended the link. Nyota shuddered, but he suddenly had a very strong and inexplicable urge to...bite her. Hard. Preferably someplace conspicuous. It wasn't something that was part of his typical sexual response, where had it come from? He did not want to reveal it.

Instead he bent forward and gave Nyota a light, chaste, kiss on the lips -- that really was anything but chaste. _"Yours?"_ he asked resting his forehead against hers. It registered dimly in him somewhere that he had spoken in Vulcan.

He felt her nod._ "My Spock," _she responded in his native tongue. He took her hands in his so their fingers interlocked, tips not touching and moved them away from his face. He rolled his forehead around and down so that his mouth was just below her ear. Gently nipping the soft skin in front of her jaw line he felt momentarily sated. Nyota took a sharp breath that just made him that much more aroused.

He brought his lips back to hers and kissed her again, this one was deeper and longer than the first.

If he was _hers_, wasn't she _his_? It seemed so...logical. Suddenly there was no conflict.

De-lacing their fingers Spock placed all of his fingertips against her own. He felt her desire with a rush along these new links. He let her feel his desire along with this new thing, not the urge to bite itself, but the feeling...was it love, possessiveness, resolve, territorial instinct?__

Pushing his forehead back to hers he breathed softly,_ "My...Nyota." _The words were new. But they fit. He didn't think he could feel any warmer, but as he said them a wave of heat washed through him. _"Mine." _This last word was a whisper and a snarl.

She answered him with a hungry kiss he was more than ready for. As their lips stopped moving he gently pulled on her bottom lip with his teeth.

She kissed him lightly again and then pushed against his hands. "Spock...I want this...but..."

But? He suddenly felt an edge of anxiety in the passion he felt across their link. What could possibly be wrong? He began to nip softly at the bottom of her jaw. Maybe he wasn't being sufficiently persuasive...She let out a low moan that was very persuasive to him. She was aroused but then...

_Anxiety...apprehension..._

"_..._right here, right now, we could get in real in trouble...even if the door is shut..."

Her emotions finally seeped into him. Pulling back a few inches, he let their fingers part. Reason had not completely returned; he didn't want her to see through the link how her suggestion made him...almost...angry. Closing his eyelids he took a deep breath and let it out very slowly.

As his eyes opened he took a moment just to look at Nyota in the dappled light that flickered through the blind. Her skin looked distinctly caramel in the orange evening glow. He didn't have to disguise his gaze anymore, it was such a relief. He kissed her again.

"Spock!" It came out a whispered hiss, but she was smiling, "Gossip we can live with, but it is not good to do this here..."

Suddenly where he was and what he was doing caught up with him. His survival instinct kicked in. "Indeed," He replied slowly sitting up straight. "Your assessment of the situation is correct."

If he looked at the situation as it was, not as logic dictated it, he could still be analytical and make rational decisions. There was some solace in that.

"If we are to have any sort of non-professional relationship we must endeavor to be more discreet." He said softly, raising his eyebrow at his own understatement.

Before he said anything more Nyota said, "Some ground rules might help."

Spock found rules generally comforting -- despite his recent resentment of the unwritten rules of human conduct he had stumbled on. Rules cleared up ambiguity. And he generally was very indisposed towards ambiguity.

"That sounds, logical. Although, I have a meeting with Professor Matsumura in four minutes and thirty seconds; now may not be the time." His gaze turned to the office door. "It would be wise if I opened the door."

"Not the time or the place," She finished. "We need somewhere we can really be alone."

Spock realized that ironically, he did know such a place. "Do you remember where I live, Nyota? We could discuss this there later uninterrupted or observed."

After spending so many months trying to keep all their interactions public he suddenly recognized that even for a platonic relationship his home, away from campus, away from gossip, might have been a better choice. Then caught himself, in his home, things were unlikely to remain platonic.

She looked down a moment. "Not this evening. Tomorrow is Friday. I will not be in the lab tomorrow due to the extended xenomorphology lecture I will be attending -- and probably won't be available until late. Could we meet on Saturday? This will give us both time to think."

Spock considered this. It was so much more logical than his suggestion. It would provide him with a chance to meditate. "I am available Saturday afternoon. What time is most convenient for you?"

"How about 14:00?"

"That will be fine, Nyota."

He stood up and went to the door.

What had he done? Prevented the end of their non-professional relationship -- the definition of which he suddenly realized, was greatly in flux. His behavior has been illogical if he stood outside himself and looked on...but if he looked at it from a closer vantage point, it did have its own certain internal logic. If she was his, he had to endeavor to keep her.

"Spock...Saturday...there will be no expectations?" Nyota asked.

Spock tilted his head. Of course there were expectations. How odd. "I will expect to discuss 'ground rules', as you call them."

She looked up at him and smiled, "You are_ my_ Spock."

It took all of his willpower not to reach down and bite her. Clenching his teeth he opened the door.

**A/N:  
**Well, it couldn't be exactly NORMAL, he's half Vulcan. Hope you're not all disappointed. Also hope you see what tipped Mr. Vulcan over the edge. I think it was a two step process.

Oh yeah, and notice who is the logical one.

I rewrote this and the last chapter about 3 times, so I'm falling behind again. I'll try to have the next post up by Monday though. I just like to have a few chapters written out ahead of time.


	31. Leave Your Expectations at the Door

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Leave Your Expectations at the Door  
**  
Thursday and Friday night Spock did not expend mental energy contemplating the illogical nature of the relationship. He knew the situation was illogical -- so had been choosing Star Fleet over the more prestigious Vulcan Science Academy. But the mind touch had been more powerful to him than his official bonding to T'Pring -- and that official bond had ended. Then somewhere between the time Nyota said, "My Spock" and he had said, _'Mine'_ he'd felt the issue resolved.

There were a few issues Spock was concerned with. On Thursday he had lost control in his office. It had been inappropriate, and dangerous. Also, he felt as though he had not respected Nyota's very logical wishes to desist in a timely matter, again an issue of control. Then there was the biting instinct – another issue to control.

The final issue was that Spock really had no expectations for Saturday, other than the discussion of 'ground rules'...and this in itself was an issue. He had been in physical relationships before, but this relationship was different. It was, in his mind, courtship. There was a part of him that felt this courtship was only a formality -- how could it not be with the intensity of the mind bump, and Nyota declaring him _'My Spock'_ and him declaring her _'Mine'_?

Still, formalities had to be respected. Unfortunately, human courtship rituals were many and varied, often seemed to be designed ad hoc, and Vulcans didn't have courtship. So he thought the best thing to do was to let Nyota take the lead, she was the human after all. This of course meant explicitly relinquishing control.

So he was caught in the bind of needing simultaneously to control and relinquish control, not a particularly comfortable position for a half Vulcan.

It was for that reason that he spent Thursday and Friday night in deep mediation. Saturday morning he attended some matters pertaining to classes he was teaching but then did his usual physical fitness routine -- an excellent way to meditate if done correctly. Early Saturday afternoon he meditated as well.

When he buzzed Nyota into his building at 13:57 he was as calm and collected and as ready for the unexpected as a half Vulcan could ever be.

x x x

At 14:00 exactly she was at his door.

Nyota stood just a few feet outside in the hallway in street clothes; a gray coat cinched at the waist, a bright red scarf to ward the chill, fitted black trousers, and some sort of feminine slip on shoe with a modest heel. Her hair was down and in ringlets like the night they'd accidentally found themselves in each others' company. Standing rigidly, with a a PADD in her hands she looked almost as though she was standing at attention.

She did not immediately step into his home after he gestured for her to do so.

Instead she stood in the hall and said in her most practiced professional voice, "Spock, I realize that the actions we participated in on Thursday were highly illogical. If after consideration you wish to...maintain a strictly professional relationship, I understand. I hope you would do me the courtesy of letting me know if that is your intention now. If so, I will not bother you this afternoon."

Spock stepped out of his unit just enough so he could look down the hall and make sure no one was looking. They were both in street clothes, and there were no other Star Fleet personnel in his building, he just felt awkward about public scenes. When he was certain no one was observing he tilted his head and replied, "That was not my intention. Would you like to come in?"

For a long moment Nyota said nothing, then she nodded and walked past him into the small foyer. She slipped off her shoes next to his. Then turned and stared at him.

At a loss for words he asked her, "May I take your coat?"

She handed him her PADD, as she did so he noticed she was shaking. Then she slipped off her coat and exchanged her garment for the PADD. He noticed she was wearing a short sleeve knitted top that was deep red in color. It had a wide scoop neck collar that revealed the delicate clavicles he had surreptitiously admired on occasion.

As he hung up her coat she said, "I didn't expect you to let me in. I thought your Vulcan logic would take hold...and your concern for the rules and regulations we've already broken would compel you to end this as quickly as possible."

"I am still concerned with rules and regulations, which was, as I understood it, the point of this meeting.

"As for illogical nature of the situation...I am no longer in conflict over the matter."

He turned to face her, she was so small without her shoes on. He wanted to push his forehead against hers but wasn't sure if that was appropriate in the situation. Would it be too overt?

He began to feel nervous and put his hands in the familiar position behind his back. She was trembling. He had purposely turned down his thermostat, he was wearing a crew neck sweater to ward the chill, but it should be comfortably warm for her. "Nyota, you are shaking. Is everything alright?"

"I'm nervous," she replied clutching her PADD to her chest. She smiled. "This is awkward."

It was awkward Spock suddenly realized. For both of them. For some reason Spock felt immensely better.

"Indeed." He nodded and raised an eyebrow. "Is there anything I can do to ameliorate your discomfort?"

"Physical contact would be nice, Spock."

He blinked. His first instincts had been correct. He walked over to her and put his forehead against hers. And then with the happiness loop still warm in his mind he raised his fingers to her temples. "May I link with you?" he asked.

"I would like that," she said.

He put his fingers to her temples and immediately saw...

_Fear, apprehension, happiness, love_...

Spock wasn't afraid, or apprehensive. He suddenly realized that her resolve was not as great as his own.

He swallowed. "Nyota, you are under no compulsion to stay. You may still chose to maintain a strictly professional relationship. You are under no obligation. I can remain completely logical in my assessments of you and --"

_Surprise...relief..._

"I have every faith that whatever happens here today you will always assess me fairly and honestly, even if it means reviewing me negatively..."

_Apprehension...happiness..._

"I really don't want to leave...but thank you, Spock." she said.

For a few moments she was quiet and Spock felt...

_Apprehension...anxiety..._She had said she did not want to leave, but these feelings were deep and troubling. Perhaps there had been undue compulsion...

Then suddenly across the link Spock felt...

_Curiousity._..

"Spock, how long have I been rattling around up there."

Spock knew what she meant, and found the way she posed the question fascinating. 'Rattling' indeed.

He sent the feeling _fascination _across the link and she giggled, "That feels funny, Spock. Just answer the question."

"One hundred fifty four days, fifteen hours and twenty four minutes."

_Wonder…_

At least she was feeling better.

Nyota repeated, "One hundred fifty four days, fifteen hours and twenty four minutes."

He decided to tease her. "Twenty five minutes now, to be precise."

She exhaled sharply in a laugh and he felt her...was that amusement? It was a sensation that reminded him of when his mother would try to tickle him as a child.

_Curiosity_...

"When was that?" She asked.

"The morning before you left for Africa."

_Surprise..._

Nyota murmured, "You've changed a lot since then...we both have...you started trying to make me laugh, on purpose...I think..."

"It was how I sought visual verification of your happiness."

Pulling her head back she started laughing softly, she held his hand to her temple so the link did not break and fixed her eyes directly on his.

The feeling of laughter through the link was...incredible.

"One hundred fifty four days, fifteen hours and twenty-four...twenty-five minutes...visual verification of my happiness...when you're with a half Vulcan leave your preconceived definitions of romance at the door," she said a wide smile across her face.

_Wonder..._

She lifted her fingers not holding the PADD to touch the corners of his mouth, "What is this Spock, a smile?"

Spock turned his attention to his lips, they were quirked just ever so slightly upwards. He raised an eyebrow...and tried to send the sensation of amusement he'd felt from her earlier.

"Indeed," he said, "You may gloat if you wish."

"Oh, I will. You can count on it."

Across the link he felt...  
_Happiness..._

He sent the feeling back to her and for a few moments they were back in that place they'd been before.

During their first interchange Spock hadn't even been fazed by his physical proximity to Nyota, but eventually, it started to pull at the edge of his conscious. His forehead was against hers. Her hand was still on his face, and it was very small, cool and soft. He could hear her heartbeat and her breathing...her skin beneath his fingertips was very soft. His lips grew warm, and it was not with the compulsion to bite.

It suddenly occurred to him, that the urge he did have was probably acceptable now. He rolled his face down and kissed her. The kiss was sweet. Her hand on his face slipped down to his chest as she answered him. He heard the PADD drop to the floor and as her other hand came up to his chest. He dropped the connection at her temple and brought his hands down to wrap hers in his own. The second kiss was deeper, he brought their hands off his chest to their sides so their palms and fingertips were pressed together, the link still intact.

The physical chemistry he usually felt when he was around her buzzed through their connection. As soon as the barrier of his hands was gone Nyota stepped closer to him and the sensation of her whole body next to his was almost enough to make him loose control.

But thanks to two nights and a long morning of deep meditation he didn't. And neither did Nyota. She suddenly stepped back, and he did too.

An extremely odd sensation came across the link from her. Both of his eyebrows raised.

"That was an 'uh-oh', Spock. I believe I felt it from you too."

"Nyota, I believe if we are going to discuss 'ground rules' we should desist from these activities for now."

She nodded and swallowed. "Agreed."

The physical energy was still buzzing in their connection; Spock dropped all but two fingers of the link. He didn't want to completely let her go, but didn't want to be distracted either. She wrapped her two fingers around his own.

"I don't want to let you go completely," she said.

That wasn't something he'd sent across the link to her. It was something she felt that just happened to be in accord with his thoughts.

"Then we are in accord," he responded. "Follow me."

"Just a minute," she said not releasing his fingers. Bending down to pick up her PADD she said, "I brought a list."

He lifted an eyebrow and sent a flutter of what he recalled as 'amusement' through his fingertips.

"Don't laugh -- lists are helpful, Spock." She looked down at their fingers. "We're still linked aren't we? I can feel you but it isn't as strong."

"Yes we are still linked. My telepathic, empathic...ability is not as pronounced in fingertip to fingertip touch, unless contact is made across all digits. But a link is there. I can even communicate with a little effort, although not as well."

"A mini-mind bump?"

"Indeed. It is through this less intense contact that Vulcan children communicate with their parents and hone their contact telepathy skills."

Then he felt a flicker of...happiness, curiosity?

She smiled, "I'm just imagining a little Spock."

Human curiosity did wander off in interesting directions. Fascinating. He sent fascination through the link.

She giggled again. "That tickles, Spock. What is it?"

x x x x

Nyota looked at the table and the two chairs he had set directly opposite one another. He felt a flickers of anxiety, panic, nausea?

"You are uncomfortable," he noted.

"It looks like an interrogation table," she explained helpfully.

That is how instead of sitting comfortably apart in a matter perfectly conducive to having a rational discussion in a professional manner they wound up on the couch. At first they had sat side by side with the PADD between them, but in order to get close enough to read together Spock had to lean closer in than was comfortable...He had declared that position too distracting.

Somehow Nyota wound up curled up in one corner, her front to the length of the couch, her legs beneath her. Spock reclined against her, his head resting just below her chin. She had both of her hands on his chest; one of them clasped the fingertips of his left hand periodically. She was still nervous he realized, and slightly apprehensive, but mostly she was content.

He on the other hand…"This position is even more distracting, Nyota."

"I thought Vulcans were big on self-control."

"Vulcans do not engage in this sort of physical contact."

"Snuggling."

From the corner of his eye he saw her look over at what passed as the dining room in his small adobe, where he had suggested they sit earlier. It looked perfectly good to him, stainless steel table, stainless steel chairs, stainless steel lamp hanging from the ceiling. The lamp had a nice bright light too. He felt the apprehension from her again.

He really did not wan to upset her. At least in this position he couldn't lean over and nip or kiss her very easily. Perhaps it would be acceptable.

"We may remain here," he said.

Slipping her fingertips against him he felt a flicker of gratitude. He momentarily desisted in his complaints regarding this highly illogical choice of discussion location.

Despite the cooler body he was pressed against he felt uncomfortably warm. He could smell her shampoo, he could smell her. Watching the contrast as her cool brown fingers interlaced with his, he enjoyed the sensation as her other hand slid across his chest. He could hear her heart beating and occasionally her head would lean down a little and he would feel the press of her cheek against his temple.

He was just getting to the point where he thought he might be able to think logically and get back on task when she began to engage in an activity he normally found quite pleasant.

"Nyota, please do not...nuzzle...my ears."

"You don't like it?" She asked withdrawing.

He didn't answer.

"Spock?"

"It is...distracting."

"Oh, so you do like it? I will file it away for future reference."

He grumbled. It came out almost a growl.

"Mmmmmmm...That is sexy."

He took a deep breath. "Nyota, I have forgone the 'interrogation chairs', as you called them. Would you please forgo your efforts to torture me more than is absolutely necessary?"

She laughed. "That's funny, Spock."

"I was not endeavoring to be amusing."

"Oh....would you like to move? Really, it's okay...." She tried to lift herself beneath him.

He did not move. Could not move. Really did not want to move?

"No, let us remain here...where were we on your list?"

"Rule number one."

"Ahh...yes."

A list was not part of Spock's plan. He never needed to follow notes or lists, his memory was nearly perfect. But as it turned out, considering his distracting position, the list was helpful. In his right hand, balanced against the bend of his legs was the PADD where Nyota had her put her discussion notes.

"Rule one: No physical displays of affection anywhere on Star Fleet Campus or properties, even behind closed doors," he read. "I agree completely, Nyota."

"I thought you might."

"I would add, 'No closing doors'. It is too tempting to stray..." He pulled their entwined hand up to his lips and gently began to nibble her wrist. Taking a deep breath he said, "This is a most inefficient way to do this."

"We can move."

"No."

"Let's make 'No closing doors' Rule 1a...See, that's why I put so much space between items, so we have room for notes. I'll read the next one," she said. "Rule two: Physical intimacy of a public nature off of Star Fleet Campus or properties?...I ended it with a question mark I wasn't sure how... "

Before she even finished the sentence his mind reacted with such aversion he didn't even have to broadcast the feeling to her, it slipped through his fingers unbidden.

Nyota kissed the top of his head. "It's okay, I understand. I'm willing to give you that one. Probably more logical not to risk it anyways..." Spock felt her sadness across the tentative link. "It's hard for me though. I'm a naturally affectionate person...it is hard to not show my affection to someone who means so much to me."

He squeezed her fingers and let her know his regret.

"I will expect physical compensation though," Nyota continued.

This sounded interesting. "Please explain."

"Whoa, you perked up," Nyota said.

Did she get that from the link or from his tone? He was certain he hadn't physically perked; he was extending great effort in that regard.

"I want affection. Lots of it in private. Like now."

"I can think of more intense expressions of physical affection."

She bit his ear.

Expressions like...that. He normally didn't like women biting his ears. His ears were sensitive but...A slow rumble came from his chest. Her biting him was almost as good as him...

"Spock, are you purring?"

"I am sure I do not purr. Purring occurs in domestic cats, pumas, mountain lions and generally all other big cats that do not roar. It involves continuous vibration of the vocal chords during inhalation and --"

She bit his ear again. His eyelids fluttered and his chest almost rumbled again. "Nyota, please do not touch, kiss, nuzzle...or bite...my ears. In addition to being highly distracting if you are trying to discourage me from certain commentary, I assure you it is having quite the opposite effect."

"Another one to file away for later."

Spock wondered how far off later was. "Shall we move onto item three?"

They made their way gradually down the list.

Meeting outside the Xenolinguistic Department after Trill class: Yes, but after a holiday period. And then only once a week at most.

"The Xenolinguistic Department is particularly nasty Spock, especially the students in my year. Did you hear the short haired interpreter comment the last time we met?"

"I heard the comment. That was in regards to us?"

"Yes, my short haired, Trill speaking, interpreter..." She kissed the side of his head.

"I understand the short haired part of the commentary but the interpreter part..." Leaning into the kiss he brought his right hand up to gently stroke her ringlets, completely forgetting to finish the sentence.

Lunch dates: Yes, after a holiday period. Once every other week, preferably after an event that justified the occasion.

Coffee and tea in the cafeteria: More acceptable, once or twice a week.

Public events: Yes, but only if they came and left separately.

...and so on.

It _was_ torture. _Exquisite_ torture. Where had he used the word exquisite before? Periodically Nyota would kiss his temples, or the top of his head. She also rubbed her hands across his chest, occasionally using her nails just a bit. Somewhat disappointingly she did not kiss, touch, nuzzle or bite his ears again, exactly as he had requested.

Spock had less control in his position. But he did find himself pulling her hands to his lips occasionally, he noticed when he did flickers of happiness and arousal would shoot through their fingertip connection and her pulse rate would increase. As the afternoon wore on he noticed less and less signs of ill ease from her. And that made the torture worth it.

When they came to the last item on the list it was nearly 17:00. Reading it Spock's eyebrows rose.

**A/N:**

_Thanks everyone for your reviews!_


	32. Courtship Rules

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

UPDATE: Thank you JAGNikJen for the grammar help!

**Courtship Rules (To Boldly Go Where No Star Trek Fan Fic Has Gone Before...)  
**  
On the one hand, the last rule could clear up some of the ambiguity regarding the physical aspects of their relationship. On the other hand, it would be torture. Also, it was not a completely rational rule; there were other options she must not have considered.

Finally, the way she had put it was...both novel and explicit.

He felt a wave of embarrassment from her through his fingertips. He tried to transmit only calm.

He tilted his head.

"Maybe I should read the last one..." she said.

He tilted his head the other way.

"The last rule." She took a deep breath. "No sex for at least thirty days because I am not yet baby proof."

Of course, Spock had had this discussion before with other partners. But it had always gone along the lines of, 'I'm safe. Are you safe?'...'Yes, I am safe. Let us proceed.'

"Nyota, I am puzzled by this rule. I presume that you know that there are other options..."

"I will only go on one hormone altering therapy at a time...and the implant has been around for 200 years. It is well tested by now, has few side effects and I won't have to worry about taking it every day. Also, it completely suppresses ovulation. And since we don't know how half Vulcan DNA will react to male chemical contraceptives..."

She was very nervous. He projected calm, although he found this subject difficult himself.

It was best to stick to scientific terms in these discussions. "Nyota, human contraceptives work very well against the human gametes I produce. I could replicate some and be safe within thirty six hours."

"The _human_ gametes you produce? You also produce Vulcan gametes?"

"I am a genetically engineered hybrid. My parents wanted me to be able to produce offspring without the benefit of a science lab. And they wanted me to have options."

"So you go both ways." She was changing the topic, deliberately baiting him…and was being slightly deceptive. Evidently she'd forgotten the link -- and her heightened emotional state made her very easy to read.

"I am aware of the connotations of the human expression 'go both ways'. I will not dignify that line of inquiry with a reply.

"Furthermore, there are physical barriers that could be used immediately.

"Finally, why are you being deceptive?" he asked.

"We are not...tonight...no way. You said no expectations." He felt a flicker of anger and felt her shift underneath him as though to get up.

He decided he would not move. "Nor did I presume that we would. I was merely illustrating a point."

He felt a rush of nervousness from her. He took a deep breath and swallowed. "Nyota, I am merely confused by your logic on this topic. I know you are being deceptive about something. Perhaps you can tell me what your real motivations are?"

"You can tell I'm being deceptive?"

He stroked the fingers on their entwined hand. "I have been doing this since I was born. And I had a human mother, who on occasion, would be deceptive."

...For instance when her sleeve had fallen back that time when he was five. He had seen a large ovoid bruise on the underside of her arm surrounded by red marks. She'd said it was nothing...he'd had reason to relive that memory lately...

He heard her swallow hard. He was tired of not being able to see her face. He slid down so his head was on her knees and he was looking up at her.

She looked down at him and bit her lip. "It's sort of was an evasion strategy."

"Please explain."

She swallowed again. "To slow things down. We -- I won't risk getting pregnant. I tell myself I've got at least thirty days to figure things out. Because after we...then everything gets amplified. It's an emotionally bonding experience --"

"But we are already bonded." Could she not know? He was bewildered.

"Of course we already have a bond. But this is different. Even without a bond...consummation of a physical relationship can provoke a rush of oxytocin to the brain that can be…destabilizing." As she spoke she made a gesture with her free hand like an explosion coming out of her head.

Ahh...This was something separate from bonding. "I have not experienced this rush of emotion on consummation of a physical relationship."

…Or actually, any emotion on consummation of a physical relationship. It did explain the comlink incident a little better though.

"Of course you haven't. You're perfectly capable of having sex without emotional repercussions -- which isn't to say that you don't have an emotional bond with me...its just to say, you don't experience an additional rush of emotion when you..."

He was curious. "Perhaps it is because I am Vulcan…"

"No, it is not because you are Vulcan, or half Vulcan. My brother is as bad or worse. He is perfectly capable of separating sex and emotion."

Actually, this made sense, his relationship with his first partner had ended quite cordially.

Nyota went on, "I'm not like that. Which is why I don't run around like Gailia having multiple partners on a given evening."

Well, there was at least one benefit to this vexing behavior.

"...Before I get that mighty oxytocin rush that makes my head spin I'd like to be comfortable in our relationship." She continued, "So that when as my commanding officer you have to pull rank on me I will already have established patterns of behavior. Patterns of behavior that ensure I behave in a manner that is professional, not personal."

"So this is an issue we are having because I am your commanding officer?" Spock asked.

She bit her lip...he felt her...Sadness? Anxiety?..Some emotion he could not place from her. "No, it's me. Even if you weren't my commanding officer I'd probably like to take things easy at first...I mean every relationship has issues. Ours has the additional weight of having professional and personal issues. It is good to know how to deal with them, and easier before..." She shrugged. "...I just like to feel completely comfortable emotionally, not rushed…Or, as Gailia says, I am a coward."

"It is not logical to compare your habits in this matter to an Orion." Then he raised an eyebrow. "Or even any other human. Human neurochemistry is complex and varied."

Had he just felt a flicker of...relief?

"And in thirty days you experience some sort of neurochemical transformation that induces a state of complete emotional comfort?" Spock asked.

"Well...you notice I included the words 'at least'..." She sighed. "You don't understand do you?"

"Contraceptive effectiveness is an excuse for your primary motive. You are attempting to maintain a neurochemical balance until you establish patterns of behavior that allow you to deal with stress in the relationship in a rational way." He raised an eyebrow. "I do not understand why you did not say so to begin with.

"As I have a vested interest in your neurochemical balance and emotional comfort, it is only logical that I accept the last rule…" He took deep breath. "…Including the ambiguity of the words 'at least'."

Although he did hope it didn't take too long.

Through the simple fingertip connection Spock felt..._love._ He'd felt it from her before, but it had always been laced with other emotions. This was pure. He wasn't sure why his logic had provoked the rush of feeling.

Nyota looked down at him, not speaking, not smiling. Acknowledging the emotion he had just received with a nod, Spock did his best to echo it, but the slight fingertip connection wasn't as strong as a link at the temples. And he was surprised...this sensation of surprise made it difficult to respond with the pure emotion he had just received from her.

For a few long moments they sat quietly. Nyota began tracing the outline of his face with her free hand. She let a finger run down his temple, to his chin and up to his other temple. Then she slowly dragged it across his forehead, down his nose to his lips. Spock kissed her digit gently.

Love apparently could render even emotional humans speechless. Fascinating.

Giggling Nyota said, "Spock what _is_ that? It tickles."

"Fascinating."

Nyota exhaled in a soft laugh. "Yes, it is."

Still smiling she whispered, "You know, the last rule doesn't mean we can't do other things."

Suddenly, he was aware exactly where his head was resting. "Perhaps you would like to define 'other things'?"

"I thought we could make that up as we go along."

He raised an eyebrow. On the one hand, it was ambiguous, and he did not like ambiguity as a general rule. On the other hand, it was ambiguous...and could leave the situation open to many different interesting possibilities...

"Nyota," he asked out of curiosity, "Are these sort of poorly defined limits a common occurrence in human courtship?"

"Oh, this is a human courtship ritual as old as the hills, Spock."

It was traditional then. Many traditions had practical underlying purposes...why hadn't she just said so?

Sitting up, he turned around so his back was resting against the couch. He made sure he was close enough to her that her knees brushed against his thighs. "So," he said, tilting his head, "Would you like to set limits for this evening?"

He took two of her fingers again and was rewarded with excitement and arousal.

She considered for a moment, licked her lips, and said, "No clothes off and no hands below the waist?"

He tapped her fingers. How frustrating that she made it a question -- too much ambiguity there, too easy to slip. "Is that a question or a statement?"

She took a deep breath. "Statement."

He considered the implications. He had rules now. This actually made control much easier. He was more confident he could do this and keep himself in check.

Pulling her to him he said, "Let us proceed."

**A/N:**

They NEVER have this conversation in FanFic…but of course, they would, wouldn't they? I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself.

Oh, and just posted a little fiction yesterday called "Logical" in case you want to see some of Nyota's perspective: /s/5252252/1/Logical


	33. Nibbles

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Nibbles**

When he said, 'Let us proceed' Spock was intent on following the rules to the letter. That said, he quickly realized that the rules did offer him some latitude. What had T'Lan said about his mind being more flexible than the typical Vulcan's?

Spock also discovered that leaving clothes on did offer some benefits when it came to his new found compulsion.

They were still on the couch. Nyota lay on top of him and was kissing him gently. He wasn't linked with her. He found it much easier to maintain his composure without it.

Bending at the knee he brought his up between her hers until he was firmly pressed against her center. He was rewarded with a moan. Moving his leg very gently side to side he was able to elicit a small gasp that was deeply satisfying...to him.

Nyota swallowed. "Spock, I thought we agreed -- not below the waist."

"We agreed no hands below the waist. But if you wish I will desist."

"No."

He had the pleasant realization that torture could go both ways.

She sighed. Closing her eyes she said in Vulcan, _"My Spock, ever logical."_

He didn't think. Simultaneously lifting her up with his strategically placed leg and pulling her up with his hands he brought her left breast to his mouth and bit her hard through her clothing. Her top and bra protected her from the worst of it, and his bite hadn't been rough enough to tear fabric. She made a sharp, feminine, "Ah," but didn't pull back. He immediately reached for the other side. The second bite provoked the same reaction.

He was so close to her clavicles too...but resisted. He took a deep breath and willed his calm to return.

Nuzzling and kissing his ears Nyota whispered, "You are a nibbly one aren't you, Spock?"

'Nibbly'. She made it sound so...benign. Perhaps this new instinct would be manageable after all?

But really, he hadn't been sated.

**A/N:**

**Questions about Spock's fertility & Star Trek Science:** I figure if they can merge two species together they can make him fertile. I think the children would be like him, carrying both human and Vulcan genes, but that an individual gamete would be compatible with either a Vulcan egg OR a human egg -- never both.

Who knows, maybe human female pheromones would have him producing human gametes, and Vulcan pheromones would have him producing Vulcan gametes.

It is Star Trek...so, we gotta leave some of our logic at the door.


	34. Professionals

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Bad Science Alert: **Yep. Its back...

**Professionals**

"Good morning, Cadet," Spock said. He stared straight ahead as the turbolift closed in front of them.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," Nyota replied gazing in rapt attention at the lights above the lift door.

It was Monday. They had managed to find themselves alone in the lift at the same time. They both stood with their hands behind their backs, precisely 45.72 centimeters apart.

Spock knew his face was as impassive as ever. Nyota had a smile that stretched from ear to ear. He estimated they had approximately 30 seconds in the lift alone together. He turned his head and looked down at her. "You are smiling, Cadet."

"I am gloating." Rolling back and forth between the heels and the balls of her feet she kept her eyes on the lights above the lift door. "I saw a half Vulcan smile," she whispered.

"Indeed." He continued to gaze down at her in a manner that was completely unnecessary.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Lieutenant, do you think that is in complete accord with Rule 1?"

Rule 1 prohibited physical contact in the open or behind closed doors on Star Fleet properties. Technically, he was not touching her, only staring at her. Continuing to gaze down he said, "I find it in complete accord, Cadet."

"Well, technically, I believe it is in accord...but it feels..." She didn't finish, the turbolift chimed, they both faced forward and exited the lift.

Heading down the hall toward the lab Nyota said, "Lieutenant, this Sunday I discovered that there was an Orion ship by the white dwarf in quadrant 3N12 just before it went supernova. It wasn't an official federation vessel, but I believe if they received any subspace transmission, it would be very helpful in determining the 'solar gossip' of a star just before explosion."

"That would present a most unique opportunity, Cadet. Excellent work." They were far ahead of schedule. He wondered idly how she managed to keep up with all her other responsibilities.

The good thing about having a well defined professional relationship was that it was very easy to slip back into. All their routines were the same. Nyota was her same professional, cool self. If she felt any discomfort she didn't show it.

Even if Spock hadn't been resolved about their relationship he might not have been discomfited. It wasn't logical to worry about the past, nor was it logical to worry about the future. As it was, Spock was more comfortable in Nyota's company than he'd been in weeks. Things with Nyota felt as though they were close to where they should be -- both in and out of the lab.

His relationship with his commanding officer was more strained.

"Spock do you want to explain these preliminary findings on solar subspace noise to me?" It was Commander Sharpton, a little later that same week. She was in his lab shaking a PADD in an aggravated fashion.

Of course he'd been around humans long enough to understand that his 'want' had nothing to do with the matter.

"Preliminary findings have indicated that each star has its own unique signal modifier. The modifier changes the subspace transmission of solar events from star to star. For instance, a solar flare on Epsilon 5 will create very different subspace noise than a flare on Epsilon 4, its twin star -- even accounting for the attributes of the flares themselves.

"Originally I had hypothesized that by calculating all known physical attributes of a star we would be able to determine this modifier mathematically. However, that appears not to be the case. We can determine the modifier by observation only, attempting to compute it by known physical attributes is ineffective." Spock finished.

"That is impossible, Spock."

This human ability to deny valid scientific observations when they flew in the face of established theory was frustrating to Spock. Obviously, if the observations were in opposition to established theory the theory needed to be modified -- or the observations were wrong. In this case all likelihood pointed to the theory being in need of modification.

"Commander, I assure you, that is what all data indicates."

"But if all physical attributes are accounted for...age, mass, diameter, chemical composition, kinematics, multi-dimensional transferal...etc...etc....how?"

"The most logical conclusion is that there are physical attributes that our current models do not account for. A most fascinating line of inquiry for further..."

"Yes, yes, yes..." She rolled her eyes. "I agree, I agree." The Commander began pacing not looking at him.

So she had agreed with him the whole time. Why were they having this discussion? He looked at Nyota and raised his eyebrows. His cadet said in a very low voice he was certain the Commander could not hear, "She's venting..."

"This is going to frustrate some very smug astrophysicists who thought they had it all figured out. Especially the ones who came out with multi-dimensional transferal theory..." Sharpton said.

She sighed. "So what you're telling me is that for each solar system the unique modifier cannot be calculated based on the known physical characteristic of the star. It must instead be established by much more time consuming observation?"

"Preliminary findings, at least, indicate that, yes. Time consuming is relative, perhaps a few months per system."

"How soon before you solidify these preliminary findings, Spock?"

"To finish the research and prepare my results for publication, I estimate by the end of the month."

"And then?"

"I was planning to begin investigating a single system."

"Anything in mind?"

Spock glanced quickly over at Nyota. Remaining silent, she stood PADD in hand at a workstation. Her eyes were darting back and forth from the PADD and workstation console. Spock imagined she was trying hard not to speak.

This was a question that Nyota and he had been over many times. Nyota had wanted to investigate the Sol System first, in order to decode her 'Romulan' transmission. But Spock had convinced her, at least intellectually, that the greatest good lay in concentrating their efforts elsewhere.

He had granted her that he would be willing to investigate the Sol System unofficially with her as a side project. He loved her after all, and even if pursuing the origins of the 'Romulan' transmission was illogical was willing to help her, if only to put her irrational notions to rest. An unofficial investigation in their spare time would take much longer, but the good of the many outweighed the wishes of the few.

Spock answered the Commander. "A strategic system, something within Klingon or Romulan borders would help in our surveillance efforts."

"Humpf. Research done on anything within Klingon or Romulan borders would have to be extremely classified -- this particular lab is not equipped."

"I would not object to moving, "Spock replied. "However, I had also thought that a system with remote colonies would benefit from a means of communication not dependent on a subspace signal receiver."

Sharpton didn't even reply to this suggestion. Instead she said, "What about the Sol system, Spock?"

There was a loud thump from Nyota's work station. Both he and the Commander turned to see her staring straight at them. Her hands were poised in mid air; the PADD she had been holding appeared to have dropped to the floor. Nyota blinked. "Excuse me," she said ducking down to pick up the PADD.

Spock tilted his head back to the Commander. "As there are adequate subspace receivers for the sentient subspace transmissions in this system I hardly think that would be a wise choice."

"Once your results are published, other researchers can begin seeking out the subspace signatures of stars in other systems..."

Looking down the Commander crossed the arm holding the PADD over her chest. She put her other hand up to her chin as though pondering something.

At last Sharpton said, "It would be so interesting from a historical perspective to detangle Sol's own modifier...Don't you think it's odd Spock, that on the date of the suspected transmission you and Cadet Uhura discovered there are no official records? Terrans were monitoring the skies at that point. Spying on their enemies and looking for visitors..."

Straightening Spock began to speak, "With all due respect, Commander, much from that time was lost due to the war and..."

"Much was lost, but rarely_ all _was lost."

Sharpton lifted her head and straightened her tunic. "Spock, as soon as you finish your preliminary research I would like you to begin decoding Sol's signature."

Spock did not reply. The illogical nature of the order left him speechless.

"That is an order, Lieutenant Spock."

"Understood, Commander."

As soon as Sharpton had left the lab Spock turned to look at Nyota. Hovering over her console she kept her eyes carefully away from him. She was biting her lip and he knew trying not to smile. Was she bouncing ever so slightly on the balls of her feet?

At last she sighed. "Humans...so illogical."

Spock narrowed his eyes. "Indeed."

She swallowed. "I do understand intellectually that your suggestions were more rational...she did say other labs would start investigating other systems..."

Spock glared at her.

"And I will not gloat on this matter, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, Cadet."

He took a deep breath and relaxed a bit. He watched her a few seconds longer than was absolutely necessary -- in the manner she had begun to refer to as 'eye kisses'. It wasn't her fault that her species was so illogical.

Nyota smiled at him.

Spock nodded and got back to work.


	35. Love Bites

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

No descriptions of anatomy below the waist. No description of sexual acts -- but allusions to said acts. Slight language.

I'm allowing anonymous comments for the first time ever. Long time reader, never been a reviewer? Now is your time!

**Love Bites**

Exam week Spock only saw Nyota in the lab...and he'd only seen her once the week before that.

It turned out that Nyota's focus on her Romulan transmission _had _distracted her from her other obligations.

He didn't get to point out how illogical that had been. Before he could say anything Nyota said, "It would be illogical for you to comment on how illogical I've been since you've already pointed out how illogical I am regarding this matter on numerous occasions."

He couldn't argue with that logic.

She was doing fine in her Xenolinguistic courses, but in the prereqs outside of her specialty were suffering, particularly Advanced Calculus and her Intro to Multidimensional Physics course. Multidimensional physics was so close to subspace physics, Spock was confused by her difficulty.

He had tried to help her. He thought that if he could tutor Brian he could certainly tutor her in calculus and an intro physics course. Unfortunately, this had not been the case.

"I don't want a deep understanding of the subject matter, Spock. I only want to know what I need to know to get above 94% on the test; so that hopefully I can pull my grade up to 88% in the class....then maybe I can talk my way up to a 90%..."

"A deeper understanding of the subject matter will help you build more complex neural networks and --"

"I've heard this speech before. Would you just show me where I went wrong on the last equation?"

Brian had inclination and some aptitude. Nyota had some aptitude, but inclination -- not so much.

In the end she had declared that for the sake of their relationship she was going to let Gailia be her tutor.

She came over Friday after her last exam. They had four days before she would be leaving for Africa to see her parents over the break. Spock had no apprehension over the time apart -- it would be very un-Vulcan to be apprehensive. But he did hope they could spend as much time together as possible before she left.

When she showed up at his door her eyes were puffy, she moved slower than usual, and her reaction times were down.

Entering his quarters she touched her forehead to his and they and he indulged in a brief empathic link at the temples. Spock instantly felt her happiness to see him, but it was tinged with deep exhaustion.

"Missed you." She said.

He opened his mouth to say 'I miss you too'. But as usual the words did not, would not, come out. Still, he always tried. She put her fingers over his lips. He gently tried to transmit his happiness through the link...of course it was tinged with frustration at his inability to communicate verbally.

They cooked dinner together. His replicator was broken. Again. He really needed to consider getting an industrial grade replicator, but the industrial models took up so much space.

After dinner she found a holo on his bookcase. "May I turn it on?" She asked as he finished putting some items away.

"Of course," he replied coming up behind her and taking two fingers in his.

Pressing a small button beneath the base she exclaimed, "Your family?" as the holo lit up.

"Yes, from a few years ago, although my mother just sent it."

It was a private holo taken just before he'd stood before the Vulcan Science Academy. He and his father stood on either side of his mother, their hands behind their backs, faces impassive. His mother had one hand behind his father's back, one hand behind his, and a wide smile on her face.

"Your mother is beautiful...she is more expressive than I imagined a person living among Vulcans would be..." Nyota commented.

He felt a sensation of curiosity through their finger tips...

"She is very Vulcan in public," Spock replied. "She knows the ways of Surak very well, and has even been allowed to participate in ceremonies in the Katric Arc by the elders. But in private..." He tilted his head. "She has well defined public and private personas."

He looked over at Nyota's face in the glow of the holo...she was smiling, tracing the outlines of his holo figure with a finger. She looked up at him raised an eyebrow and laughed, it made his fingers buzz. He suddenly remembered some of his lessons in human psychology.

Nyota beat him to it. "So Spock, are half Vulcans attracted to women who remind them of their mothers?"

"The sample size is too small," he replied. "And there is no control." But he tried to send flickers of what he recalled as amusement through the link.

They had found over the past few weeks that just as not every word translated from one language to another, not every emotion translated between them. Nyota experienced his feeling of 'fascination' as a tickle in her nose she said. It had begun to provoke what they referred to as the 'Pavlovian Vulcan Giggle Effect'. Whenever Nyota heard him say 'fascinating' she would laugh linked or not.

When he told jokes that made her laugh he felt a pleasurable sensation of satisfaction without the link. The emotion he thought was 'amusement' was something he learned from her. He didn't feel it per se, but he remembered the feeling from the link. It reminded of times when his mother would try and tickle him as a child.

She joked on occasion that the nuances of a tickle were lost in translation.

"You know," she said, "You kind of remind me of the other two most important men in my life -- my dad and my brother."

"I imagine they both have black hair and brown eyes," Spock replied dryly.

She laughed. "They are both protective..."

Spock raised an eyebrow, he strongly suspected she had deduced his emotional reaction to the man at the bar.

"They are both independent thinkers, and they are both very logical under their friendly exteriors..."

"Nyota, your brother is nearly a Ferengi pirate."

"He is not a pirate! He doesn't _steal_...not technically anyways. And he has very logical reasons for what he does." He felt defensiveness and a sort of mad love from across the link. It was familial love, very close to what his mother felt for him.

Spock sent her his feeling of disbelief. She stuck out a tongue at him. Which led to him dropping the link, pressing his forehead to hers and kissing her.

He didn't keep the emotional link when they tested the boundaries of the 'rules'. Spock was too afraid that doing so would lead him to lose control -- and not just over the urge to bite her.

It was now thirty five days past their first night together. Although not lovers in _all_ physical senses of the word they had begun engaging in behaviors that Spock thought made the distinction somewhat moot. Not entirely moot...but somewhat.

Spock had begun to see the wisdom in this time tested ritual of courtship. At this point they both knew all the little things that gave the other physical gratification...although he hadn't quite been able to give in to his urge to bite. He tested the limits a bit, but was apprehensive about doing more than light nips. He was a little startled by the urge. He found the simultaneous love of her unblemished mocha skin and his desire to physically mar it to be somewhat disconcerting.

He was certain that it was not just a personal inclination but part of his Vulcan heritage. And it was new to him. This newness may have been the reason that it felt more primal than the sex drive itself.

Breaking their kiss he began to gently nibble his way along the edge of her jaw and felt her smile -- this he knew she liked. He looped his fingers under the bottom of her top and lifted it gently over her head and arms. She was wearing a white lace bra that he especially liked. It stood out in stark contrast to her skin. Was this appreciation of sharp visual contrast, a human trait of his...or was it more related to how he felt about her? Through the lace the chocolate color of her nipples stood in particularly sharp relief. He cupped both of her breasts in his hands and gently teased her with his thumbs. She moaned softly and began lifting his sweater and undershirt off. He obligingly helped her maneuver it off of him.

Without speaking they made their way back to the bedroom. She had not set any new ground rules for the night, and Spock didn't ask. He accepted that they had not changed. He knew he would enjoy the moment he was in.

They laid their tops on his dresser and pressed their foreheads together for a few brief moments. He unfastened the front of her pants and pushed them gently to the ground. She stepped out of them lightly and he began to push her backwards towards the bed. She slowly turned them around so he was the one who sat down on the mattress first.

Kneeling down she began to take off his socks, then to unfasten his pants. She stood up a moment in front of him than leaned over nuzzled, kissed and nipped his ears a bit. Then she whispered, "All week I've been fantasizing about something we did last time...would you let me do that for you again?"

Well then. "It would be most remiss of me to deny you this...."

He helped her remove his pants and undergarments and watched her make a trail of kisses down his stomach before letting himself drop down to the bed.

X X X X

Afterwards she pulled herself up to him. She was on her side, and he was on his back. Placing an arm over his chest and a leg over his stomach she kissed him gently. He could taste himself in her mouth.

He made a move to roll her onto her back and return the favor but she shook her head and smiled. "No. The feel of you pressed against me right now and the taste of your come in my mouth is...blissful." She put her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes and sighed...the smile still on her face.

Spock might have pushed her more, but the words made him pause. He was fuzzy on the concept of romance. If he scanned his mental data banks romance generally pulled up images of flowers and chocolates. But then Nyota had said that his words to her 'one hundred and fifty four days' and 'verification of happiness' were romantic.

Perhaps romance was something individual? Her words, uncouth though they were, filled him with warmth. Perhaps because the words came from her mouth about him? He decided they definitely fit his definition of romance.

He reached up to touch her temple. He felt...

_Happiness...arousal...contentment...bliss_...and _exhaustion_.

It was his job to try and take care of her.

"Sleep, Nyota," he whispered and tried to transmit calm and safety. They could continue this later.

She said a long "Mmmm..." then he felt her muscles tighten and relax. He could feel her emotions as she entered REM sleep. Still happy, aroused, and content. He hoped she would have pleasant dreams.

It was not a good strategy to keep his fingers on her temple. She was still aroused and although he had been momentarily sated...

He lifted the link and lay patiently by her as she slept. Eventually, she got too warm and changed positions. As she rolled over he pulled himself up and reached under his pillow for his night clothes. It was warm enough for her to sleep only in her underwear without a blanket, but chilly for him.

He didn't need to sleep. Instead he sat up cross legged next to her and willed himself to enter a meditative state, but found it would not come.

Perhaps after a bite to eat.

Climbing carefully from the bed he picked up their discarded clothes. He folded Nyota's neatly and tossed his into the cleaning shute. And then he slipped silently into the kitchen and helped himself to a fresh can of macadamia nuts. She was asleep and would not notice. He finished up all the macadamia nuts while perusing some scientific journals on his PADD.

He wandered back to his room a few hours later. Arranging himself cross legged on the bed beside Nyota he tried to meditate again. Once more meditation did not come. He suspected that in order to meditate he needed to go to the other room...but found he'd rather gaze at her. He checked his internal clock. 01:00. She would definitely be staying the night here. This would be the first time that had happened. It actually would be the first time any woman had stayed all night in his home.

He had been a cadet when he had his previous relationships -- which had effectively put his quarters off limits. Although he doubted he would have let them into his home even if the situation had been different. He never even stayed the whole night with his previous partners in their homes. It simply wasn't logical. He hardly needed sleep and he could get so much done elsewhere.

He realized he liked having _his_ Nyota in _his_ home, in _his_ bed, whatever their physical activities or lack thereof. Despite the relative chill in his quarters he felt himself grow warm.

The lamp on his nightstand was still on. Casting a warm glow, it made her skin lovely and caramel colored like the sunlight had in his office. Her long black ponytail streamed out across the sheets behind her. Her position reminded him of the time he had first found her in the lab curled asleep on the couch.

Now she was in _his _home in_ his_ bed. He felt himself grow warmer. He felt a tremendous amount of that new emotion he'd glimpsed the first time she said 'My Spock'. It wasn't, he realized simply an urge to bite her. It was much more than that -- why did his people not have a word for it? What was it? Love...yes, it was that first and foremost...but it wasn't that quiet feeling he had experienced the morning before she left for Kenya. This was deeper. Protectiveness, lust, a territorial instinct as well? _His._

It felt right, this feeling.

It struck him that the only thing that felt wrong about his relationship with Nyota was the necessary secrecy of it. Vulcans were private, that was true. He would carry the act she had performed on him earlier and the words she said that he found so..._romantic_...to his grave without telling anyone. But Vulcans were not secretive about the status of their bond -- even if they did not precisely announce it.

No one knew she was his to care for and protect. He shivered to think of what he would do, what he would feel, if anyone tried to hurt her. Logic would rule him in such a situation, but...

No one knew she was _his_.

He gazed down at her. Laying on her side her back was to him. Starting at her feet his eyes wandered up her legs to her hips, then down the valley of her waist. Wandering up again his gaze took in her elbow, the top of her arm and came to rest on her shoulder. In her position it was smooth and firm. Reaching out without touching her he moved one of his own pale hands above that lovely smooth skin. He took in the contrast of his pale greenish hand against her warm brown.

_His._ Was his chest rumbling again?

He put his face down to the brown, glorious slope of her shoulder.

In a moment of this feeling that felt more than love...he bit her. Hard.

**A/N:**  
_For those of you who are into biting, intellectually I think it is kind of sweet. Nonetheless...this was not the most opportune time._

_But before we judge, lets remember...HE IS AN ALIEN. At least half anyways. If you date an alien, I think cultural misunderstandings have to be understood._

_He should have been open about it from the start...but I've tried to establish that it is new for him, and he's a bit disturbed by it. Hope it works._

_If you were entertained by this…please review. Reviews are the only way FanFiction authors get paid. And it is nice to know that something we've spent months of our lives on is still being enjoyed and hasn't just vanished into the netherworld of the intertubes._

_Thanks for reading…_


	36. Lost in Translation

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

Rough language. But you'd swear too!  
Italics used for emotion and for Vulcan...have them switching between standard and Vulcan a lot here.

Anonymous comments still on. I'm always open to constructive criticism (ask bluehorse and Phantos!). Thanks for keeping it civil everyone!  
**  
Lost in Translation**

Nyota rolled off the bed and was on her feet at the other side of the room faster than Spock would have thought possible for a human female. Her face displayed so many emotions Spock couldn't begin to identify them. Shock, anger, surprise?

Spock did not move. He remained seated cross legged on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees. He suddenly felt the sensation Nyota had identified as 'uh oh.' It was best to stay calm in these sorts of situations. He suspected so anyways. His father remained calm when his mother became extremely emotional.

"Holy mother of.....what the fuck was that!" Nyota shouted.

Spock had thought long and hard on this and thought he had an excellent answer. _"I believe it is an obsessive compulsive Vulcan marking behavior." _Hmmm....he was talking in his native language. That was odd.

She answered him in kind. _"An obsessive compulsive Vulcan....Spock you bit me! While I was sleeping!"_ Her hand went to her shoulder. Switching to lingua franca she shouted "A kink I can understand....But how would you like it if I bit you in your sleep?"

Still sitting cross legged on the bed, he tilted his head. He had to consider that. If it was meant in love...

"God damn it, you can't empathize..." She said in standard. Then she swore in Klingon and with a look he thought was anger lunged over to the bed. Picking up his arm and pushing up his sleeve in one smooth motion she bit the tender bend opposite his elbow. She didn't let go right away, she chewed and even tugged back and forth.

Spock was overjoyed. Perhaps she wasn't angry after all -- he did have trouble with facial cues. Maybe she was just surprised and passionate. It seemed like she actually understood.

When Nyota finally let go he pulled her onto his lap with his free arm, all the while staring fixedly at the arm she had just marked so thoughtfully for him. Little green welts were already forming in the shape that was unique to her jaw. Those small teeth marks could only be hers and hers alone. _Hers. _

For a moment Nyota seemed to be pulling to get up, and then she stopped abruptly. _"Spock are you purring?" _She asked in Vulcan.

Was he purring? "_No, a purr would imply a noise made on inhalation and exhalation, I am merely rumbling on exhalation but as I have a greater lung capacity than..."  
_  
_"You are purring,"_

She started laughing...but not in her normal light way. Why was she laughing?

She took a deep breath. _"Somehow this is a custom they failed to mention in all the Vulcan cultural awareness classes and seminars I've attended."_

Spock was silent. He kept staring fixedly at his arm -- he felt completely filled with the new emotion without a name. She was sitting sideways on his lap and he knew she could feel how much he wanted her. They had passed thirty days...

"Spock. Link. Now."

That sounded like a wonderful idea. It would be so nice to be closer to her at that moment. Lifting the hand that held her he put it on the temple opposite him. It allowed him to press the side of her head to his forehead.

Immediately he felt...

_Shock...anger...betrayal...hurt..._

His heart sank and he experienced a wave of pure panic.

And then he felt Nyota reaching across the link.

"Spock, I don't want you to transmit what you feel now, I want you to transmit what you felt when you bit me...when I bit you."

He tried, but couldn't. Her feelings had startled him into rational thought. If he looked at what he did objectively...He had let go of his control at the worst possible moment. She was smaller and weaker than he was, she trusted him to protect her while she slept. He had failed her.

_"Nyota, I cannot. I apologize for..."_

She sighed.

Across the link he suddenly felt...  
_  
Determination._..

Pulling up his free arm she bit him again. Hard. Over and over again, right on the underside of his wrist. The new emotion came flooding back. Love. Lust. Protectiveness. _His_...and _Hers._ He didn't even need to try and broadcast it to her.

Her biting stopped. And suddenly from across the link he felt...

_Arousal..._

She shook in his arms. "Well that is...different..." Then she switched to his language, _"This is...is a Vulcan emotion?"_

He told her what he knew. _"I do not know. It is new."_

He was not sure if it was purely Vulcan, it could be human too he supposed. He would reflect on it later.

_"It is..._" She took a breath and switched to the common vernacular, "beautiful and sexy as all Hell."

That sounded promising. Tilting his head he asked, _"You approve?" _

"The emotion is sexy...the_ obsessive compulsive Vulcan marking behavior is..._intimidating, Spock. But you need this don't you?"

He could not respond. When he wanted to say 'I love you' or 'I miss you' the words sat within his mind but when he wanted to speak them it was as though they fell off a cliff.

To say 'I need' for something that was definitely not necessary for survival...it was too close to 'I love you' or 'I miss you'.

At last he said, "I cannot put you under any obligation that might hurt you. I apologize for my previous actions." He suddenly realized he switched back to standard.

Across the link he felt desire mixed with apprehension. He wished he could transmit calm, but the bite marks on his arm and wrist still stung too much, and her question 'You need this, don't you?' echoed in his mind. It was too much for him to process adequately. He was not calm. He was not serene. And he could not transmit a physiological state he was so far from himself.

She replied to him in Vulcan. _"Spock, can you follow one rule, and one rule only?"  
_  
Could he follow a rule? Logically, it would depend on what the rule was. Putting his forehead back to rest against the side of her head he whispered, _"What is it you wish, my Nyota."_

Saying _My Nyota_ sent the new emotion coursing through him and Nyota absolutely quaked. They were linked, but Spock did not need the help of an empathic bond to sense her physiological state.

Turning her head so her forehead was now pressed against his she began in the lingua franca, "I want you..."

His hands tightened instinctively at those words.

Nyota swallow and finished in Vulcan. "_But we must remain linked. Can you do that?"_

It was odd, but when she gave him a question to ponder, one that required an intellectual, not emotional response, his mind could work. Remaining linked during the act they were considering presented a logistical challenge, but it was not impossible. If only he could do a mind meld. He pushed that thought away. If staying linked was the new rule..._"We may remain linked if you wish."  
_  
_"My Spock."_ She whispered.

At those words it was his turn to shake. Through the link he felt...  
_  
Arousal...anticipation...love_ and a whole host of other emotions laced with a tiny bit of _apprehension_.

Bringing his other hand up to her face he stroked her temples on either side, so the link existed briefly through both hands, and she felt the full force of this feeling she called a Vulcan emotion. She gasped...and it was most satisfying.

X X X X

Spock awoke lying on his stomach. His back felt raw. There was a definite spot of soreness on his left jaw and random aches and pains. He felt...satisfied. Content. At peace with the world.

But why did his bed feel so hard?

He blinked. He was lying on his duvet which was currently on the floor of his bedroom, a corner of it wrapped around his shoulders.

The events of last night came rushing back. He was laying on the floor because the bed was a wet, sweaty nest of ripped sheets...things had gotten perhaps a little extreme.

From Terran movies he had gathered that the first time with a new partner was supposed to be tender event...this had not. He knew that Nyota had found the night to be emotional and erotic but it had also been shocking to her. For him it had definitely been…different.

He felt a twinge of panic. Where was Nyota?

He stopped. Listened. Heard her breathing, she didn't sound like she was sleeping. He glanced side ways. There she was, laying on her side on the duvet just inches away from him. She was already awake and was watching him with wide eyes.

He reached out to touch her temple, to let her feel his relief and happiness at seeing her...and stopped halfway through the motion. The skin across his back went from feeling raw to burning.

Nyota winced, and bit her bottom lip.

"I'm sorry about that." She gingerly reached out with a hand and touched his shoulder. "I've never done that before...I was just trying to hold on..."

Ah, yes. Her nails. His skin. How wonderful. He completed the link and sent her a feeling of deep contentment.

She was still tense. Through the link he felt...

_Uncertainty..._

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know that blunt nails could actually break skin....but you said...and then through the link I could see how much you liked it...and then I couldn't stop." Nyota said.

Gritting his teeth he rolled onto his side and shifted closer to her.

"There is no need to apologize." He said stroking her temple and trying to send calm and peace and the deep pleasure he had remembering how his back came to burn.

"Maybe you shouldn't move too much until we get a dermakit...we have one more professional engagement tomorrow, remember?"

"But is a dermakit really necessary?" Spock asked. He wanted mementos. He did not want to think about professional engagements.

"Well, maybe not for the nail marks...unless you're planning to wear a white shirt. But the bite on the bottom of your jaw...I guess I didn't know what I'm doing. You were purring so loudly though, and it was so sweet...and so sexy..."

His chest started to rumble at the memory. She smiled and she touched his cheek. "Mmmmm....yes....like that. Also, I'll need the dermakit for the love bite at the back of my neck."

He blinked. There was the large red welt on her shoulder and a necklace of tiny marks on her clavicles -- and he remembered the bite on the back of her neck as well, he was almost afraid to look at it. The marks both pleased him and made him shudder.

She touched the bites on her clavicles and ran her hand behind her neck. "It didn't even really hurt when you gave me these...or not in a bad away." Then she lifted her hand to her shoulder. "I wish you had told me..."

When she touched her shoulder he felt just a tiny bit of...

_Betrayal_...through the link.

He remembered the final ultimatum she had delivered the night before when he was about to collapse into unconsciousness. _"Mark me in my sleep, Spock, and I will never bite you again."_ He certainly would not let _that _happen.

He sent her his regret and added...

"Nyota, I apologize. This behavior is new to me, I had not experienced it before. I thought I could control it."

Her eyes got wide and through their link he felt...

_Surprise..._

"This isn't a regular thing with you?"

He tilted his head and sent a tinge of vexation laced with the general happiness he was feeling through the link.

"Sorry." She smiled and he felt her happiness. "Vulcans never lie..."

Then he felt_ curiosity._

"So how much of last night was, you know, a regular thing?"

"Very little, Nyota."

Ripped sheets, occasionally, yes. The soaked bed, now and then, of course. Scratches on the back -- he'd received them, but the effect last night had been different. This is why he'd wanted more of them, and why his back burned so happily now. Taken together these things were different from the norm.

Biting? Purring? Linking through the entire act? Commanding her in Vulcan to keep tearing at his back...had that really happened? Pushing her to climax just by saying the word, '_Mine', _and the effect on him when she said, '_Yours'._ Definitely never before.

He looked over her shoulder at the wall. Did he see a faint shade of green?

Nyota said, "I think we may have gotten some of the blood from your back on the wall...I hope it does not stain." It was impossible for Nyota to read his mind through the empathic link they were sharing, wasn't it?

He tilted his head and considered, maintaining a link at all times had been logistically challenging. Blood on the wall -- thankfully only green... "That is new as well..."

And then there was just the fact that she was here, in the morning, next to him. They had actually _slept_ together. They had not just engaged in a physical act of passion, they had actually slept.

Nyota pressed her forehead to his. "You know Spock, I feel like all month I've been fooling around with a human...and last night I made love to a Vulcan."

She took a breath and kissed him gently. "So you know, I love both men."

And he did know, he felt it through their link. He opened his mouth to answer her and sighed. The feeling he wanted to send got tangled with the regret he had at not being able to express it.

"Shhhhh....I know."

She giggled. "So, I was the first partner you did Vulcan-style."

He bumped his forehead against hers a little hard. She could be so uncouth.

"Oh, come on, don't you think it is a little romantic?"

Yes. Yes, he did. He sent her a warm glow of happiness and for a few minutes they slipped into their happiness link.

And then he began to realize he was lying naked. Next to _his_ Nyota. And they seemed to have crossed just about every line already...

Ignoring the pain in his back he rolled her on top of him and kissed her, confident she would feel what was on his mind.

"I don't know...I'm sore...and when you pushed me up on the wall I think I bruised my back...I don't think I realized how strong you are..." She said

He relaxed his hold on her.

"I'm not saying no...I'm asking if you can be gentle..."

"I will not mark you." Both of his eyebrows went up at the realization that the need was gone, for the moment. "And I can be gentle." Normally it was his custom to overcompensate for his increased strength. He raised an eyebrow, she'd left him a perfect opening for teasing. "Perhaps we can do it human-style?"

"Very funny." She said without laughing. Then bending she nuzzled the tips of his ears. It suddenly occurred to him there was a favor from the night before he wished to repay.

**A/N:  
**O.K., there is a definite reason Nyota wanted Spock to keep the link. Not sure if it comes through in one chapter. Would love to hear if people have guessed it.

For American readers (heck, I'm American) a duvet is a comforter.

And now gentle readers, they've done the deed. I've heard this is the point most of the readership will drop off. *sigh*. But there are other elements of their relationship I want to explore...although they will definitely stay ahem, 'affectionate' throughout the story...until, you know...and then after that I'll have to build up the suspense all over again. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha........

Cheers.


	37. Meditations & Professional Destinations

=======================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

It may seem off topic...but its not!  
**  
Meditations & Professional Destinations**

"Spock, move your leg."

It was Sunday morning, they were in bed. She was lying on her back; he was on his side with one leg casually thrown across her stomach. Except for his leg she was uncovered. Except for his leg he lay under the duvet, partially cocooned. They were still working on an appropriate compromise for the temperature of his quarters. Consciously modulating his internal thermostat all the time required too many internal resources.

"I am confused. You have professed an interest in physical contact of a non-sexual nature, but now you are requesting I desist from this act that clearly qualifies."

"I cannot breathe...and your leg is making me hotter than I already am."

Apparently their temperature compromise was still too warm for her. But he recognized the _double entendre_ and the opportunity to make light of the situation. He raised an eyebrow.

She smiled at him, "Ha...ha...thanks. And we have to get ready to go. Come on; let me check your back."

They needed to confirm that the dermakit Nyota had borrowed the day before from her absent Orion room mate had done its work.

Spock raised an eyebrow, this time in annoyance. He pulled away from Nyota, rolled onto his stomach and brushed off the duvet.

"Don't be grumpy, Spock....Your back is all better. Except for those three scratches on your left shoulder you asked me to leave. Wow, that dermakit did work fast."

Fast was so vague. It had taken twenty four hours precisely to work. Nyota had gone out the day before to get the kit. He had been forced to stay in. The 'love bite' on his cheek had made venturing into public unwise. Not that he had minded; it had given him a chance to meditate without distractions.

He was surprisingly unfazed by their bout of 'Vulcan-style' love making. It might have been because Nyota's reaction to it had been so calm. Logical even. She just accepted it as a normal biological Vulcan drive, one that brought them mutual pleasure. She had a few conditions, "Never again bite me in my sleep, and always below the uniform line." At which point she had touched his cheek, winced and added, "Both rules go for me too." There was one more condition. "We stay linked when we do it Vulcan-style...its kind of like our safe word."

Once she realized he was happy about his sore back and really didn't mind the pain it caused she didn't seem _too _uncomfortable about it. She was confused – and relieved she admitted that he didn't seem to have any desire to 'return the back scratch fever'. Spock suspected it was because the little bites Nyota left just weren't as powerful as his. He needed something a little more from her. Granted, she tried hard when she bit, and it warmed his heart that she did, but she was only human after all.

He was slightly disturbed by the fact that the emotion behind his marking instinct only seemed to go one way. Nyota called it 'Vulcan Love'. She could sense it through him. She described it more fully as "black and deep and pure...and sexy as Hell." But although she responded to it, she did not feel it, other than as an echo from him. Still, her human emotions were true enough…

Also, she participated in the acts he needed because it gave her pleasure to do something for him. Not because she needed it. But maybe that was enough?

Since Friday night there had been no more bouts of Vulcan love making. Spock didn't have much more than the desire to nip playfully...which he did a lot during plenty of bouts of 'human-style' love making. Except for Nyota's brief run to her dorm they had not left the bedroom much.

Their couplings weren't as emotional as the first time, or as physically stressful. They were, as Nyota said, "Just really fun." Spock enjoyed it; he was surprised how much he enjoyed it. After their intense experience he had thought maybe less intense intimacy would be a let down. But it wasn't. It was a separate thing entirely. His body was more than willing -- and since it brought them both mutual satisfaction...

Presumably a Vulcan woman would have been interested in the more intense experience. Spock wondered if a Vulcan would have indulged him in these more playful bouts of affection -- and they were 'playful'. Although, of course, perhaps only Nyota would recognize this, his face had not suddenly become expressive; his voice had not suddenly developed more inflection.

All in all he felt like two halves of a whole had been united, which only cemented his belief that their unconventional bonding was genuine. And if the bond was genuine, then expression of the emotions within the confines of the bond was acceptable.

Of course, control still needed to be maintained. Even if it weren't for the unconventional circumstances of the bond it would be unseemly to show outward signs of it beyond the world of him and her, and beyond the physical walls of his apartment. Meditation would be helpful for this.

Turning her head and lifting her hair, Nyota asked, "How about me?"

Sadly, the mark on the back of Nyota's neck was gone too, as were the ones on her clavicles. She had left the bite on her shoulder...for Spock's sake. He knew she wasn't particularly fond of the circumstances around that mark. But it was the most discreet. And of course there were some bruises on her hips just from their normal intimacy; he had problems controlling the strength of his grip in certain situations.

Spock had kept the bite on the inside of his arm and the one on his chest. But the ones on his wrist had to go in case a sleeve accidentally fell back. The things you learn from your parents' mistakes.

He stared fixedly at the mark on his arm and raised an eyebrow. "Nyota, this marking behavior does suddenly make me consider the high necks, long sleeves, and hoods on the fashions of my people in a new light."

Nyota laughed. "Yes it does. Ugh....The guys in the Vulcan Interspecies Council....I'm going to try not and think too much about that." She winced.

Spock blinked. "I will apply the same mental restraint."

"Okay," Nyota said switching the subject, "The plan is that you get there first, and I'll arrive a little later. There is a shuttle every thirty minutes, and it's just a short walk to your other favorite irrational human's house."

"That is not an appropriate way to refer to Commander Sharpton." Spock said.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Sorry, Lieutenant." She saluted then began to slip on some underwear.

Vulcan's try not to let tiny irritations get them down, nonetheless Spock was a trifle annoyed about the prospect of having to go to Commander Sharpton's informal end of semester gathering. She had one every year. And every year Spock had declined to attend.

This year the commander had said to him, "Spock, are you coming this year? Even your assistant is coming...she's practically part of the department now..." And of course Spock had accepted. But that had been when he was still trying to maintain their relationship as friendship only. Now he'd rather stay in. He wanted to be selfish and keep Nyota for himself during her last days before she went to Africa.

A thought occurred. "Nyota, I have not taken a single sick day since I have come to the Academy."

"You're going to call in sick, Lieutenant?" They weren't linked. He was fairly sure she was getting annoyed though. She had called him Lieutenant, one eyebrow was up, her head was tilted, and she folded her arms across her chest. And then she kicked him with her heel.

Yes, definitely annoyed. He was pleased that he was able to read her so well.

"Would it be possible to say something unexpected had come up?" He lifted an eyebrow. "I have had students make such excuses to me from time to time." He grabbed the leg that had just kicked him and tried to reel her in.

The other leg shot out and kicked him again. "Very funny. Still too close to lying for you..."

Of course it was too close to lying. He was joking. And she knew it. He felt a pleasant sense of satisfaction in this.

Nyota continued, "...and anyway I _want_ to go. It is good for both of our careers to interact socially with our superior officers. And I _like_ your other favorite irrational human...she is supposed to be an excellent hostess. And Patrick, Toshi and their wives will be there. Besides, her house is right next to Muir Woods and she always offers her guests a tour. The only way you can get in now is with a private invitation. I'm not even a big nature lover and I want to go_ there_."

"Muir Woods?"

"You didn't know?" Huffing she got up and went to the other room. She came back with a PADD and handed it to him.

"Here. Read. You'll want to go."

She continued to get ready. Pulling the duvet back up until it was all the way up to the tips of his ears Spock read the PADD. "Fascinating."

Nyota laughed. "See, told you." She came back over to the bed, pressed her forehead to his, gave him a kiss and said, "Remember, its informal. Wear shoes you can get muddy. See ya there..."

Muir Woods changed Spock's life.


	38. The Woods are Lovely Dark and Deep

=======================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

Off topic? You decide.

**The Woods are Lovely Dark and Deep  
**  
It was a nearly perfect example of _Ariolimax californicus. _Spock squatted down next to the log in order to examine it at eye level.

By observation only he was able to determine it was 25.6 centimeters in length -- his internal ruler was as accurate as his internal clock. He noted to himself that this was six millimeters longer than the normal maximum length officially described.

Its body was bright yellow and shiny with its layer of protective slime. As it made its way along the log it waved the four tentacles located on the anterior portion of its head. The upper pair helped it determine its location via light and dark. The lower pair where chemically sensitive and helped it seek food.

Spock had pulled up images of_ Ariolimax_ before he had come, but he realized that the holos did not do it justice. To see it in real life was so much better. The _Ariolimax_'s color was brighter on in person inspection, and the gentle way it undulated along the log in its quest for nourishment was as graceful as a slow motion ballet.

Patrick and Toshi came up behind him.

"What are you looking at, Spock?" asked Patrick squatting down beside him.

"An exceptionally large specimen of _Ariolimax californicus_," replied Spock.

"Ah..." said Toshi bending at the waist to get at eye level as well. "A banana slug."

"They are cool," said Patrick. "Lots of them around here."

Lieutenant Commander Janine Garcia came over to see what the three of them were looking at. "Oooh....a banana slug. They are the second-largest species of terrestrial slug on Earth."

Her assistant Adam came over too. He was carrying a tricorder and Spock was very envious -- if only he'd thought to bring a tricorder.

"Kind of amazing that they survived the radiation dump that happened here during the war. The _Ariolimax_ is almost extinct." Adam said.

"He's kind of cute," said Nyota, coming up behind all of them. "The upper antennae eye stalks are the eye stalks, right? I wonder if he is looking at us..."

"Technically, it is not a 'he'. Banana slugs are hermaphrodites," replied Janine.

"Whenever two banana slugs get together, you know its a party," Adam added.

"Would be cool to know how much they see," murmured Patrick

"Such a creature could never survive on Vulcan," commented Spock moving closer so his eyes were only inches from the creature. "There is no place on the planet that could supply both sufficient moisture and dead vegetation for its nourishment. Fascinating."

"Yep," said Patrick.

"Sugoi, neh," Toshi said quietly -- presumably in Japanese.

"Truly," said Janine.

"God, we are nerds," said Adam.

Nyota laughed.

"Hey, my Nerdlings" called Commander Sharpton standing with her husband Diego and a group of other cadets and officers. "This is just my back yard. Let's get moving so we can see the trees before it gets dark. I brought a few extra tricorders from the lab, in case any of you want to borrow them."

At the words 'extra tricorders' Spock determined that Commander Sharpton was indeed an excellent hostess, just as Nyota had said.

x x x x

Located about nineteen kilometers north of San Francisco, Muir woods was the last surviving grove of old growth _Sequoia sempervirens, _Coastal Redwoods on earth.

The tiny 240 acre wood hadn't escaped from the wars and upheavals in the late 2000's unscathed. There had been radiation contamination. The trees weren't supposed to have a girth as wide as their cousins the Sequoiadendron giganteum, or Giant Sequoia, but the radiation had done strange things to the trunks. Some were as wide as six to eight meters in diameter.

From historical pictures Spock gathered that the trees used to cast straight up to the sky, but the radiation not only made them wider, it did odd things to their shape of their bases. The trunks were irregular; they formed strange shapes and bends, almost forming little rooms. In one place tree trunks merged like a giant curtain fifty meters long and humans had cut doors to walk through them.

But still they kept their height. The highest tree in the Muir Woods was 100 meters tall. The floor of the forest, dotted with ferns from Earth's prehistoric times, was dark as evening in the filtered green light. Spock understood the Commander's concern -- it would be unwise to be in the woods after dark, even with flash lights.

The trail they followed was a meter and a half wide, so the group of humans ebbed and flowed along. One moment he was next to Nyota and she was describing how a U.S. congressman had bought the land for the woods back in 1907 to save it from logging, and commenting how the place reminded her of something Antoni Gaudi would build, if he had built a forest.

Then the next moment the Commander was next to him explaining how the radiation from the 2063 incident had affected the flora and fauna of the forest. "In the end, though, the radiation saved the place. It was contaminated up until about thirty years ago. During the dark period no one wanted to cut down the trees for tender because people who did..."

"...wound up getting sick and dying," finished her husband Diego. "That is why this place escaped the same fate as the rest of the old growth redwood groves up the coast.

"We were here when they finally began the cleanup. We lived on radiation therapy for several years so we didn't get sick. It was worth it though."

Spock listened to all the conversations while periodically studying his borrowed tricorder. Radiation levels were still elevated according to his readings, but not high enough for undue alarm.

The roots of the trees were unusually shallow. He noted this out loud to Patrick and Toshi as they sauntered up to him.

"That is one of the reason visitors are restricted. Too much foot traffic is hard on the forest root system." Toshi said.

"As giant as these things are they are amazingly fragile," added Patrick. Then he switched the topic, "Glad you finally came this year. It would be a shame for you to come all the way to Earth and miss this...You know every time I come here I'm still amazed by the place. It is nature warped by man in a way that is eerie and almost..."

"Almost alien?" Spock asked dryly.

Yumi and Nyota walking just a few feet ahead turned around and laughed. Nyota raised an eyebrow, he suspected she would be the only one who guessed he had been truly been joking...partially anyway.

Toshi and Patrick looked like they were in shock. Then they both laughed.

"Well if _you_ say so, Spock..." said Patrick.

"Indeed, I would never find such an environment on Vulcan." It was true -- Muir Woods was alien to him as well.

And felt that visiting the place was an experience worth having. He had read as much as he could about the forest as soon as Nyota had pointed it out to him, but holos and words did not do it justice. The softness of the forest floor under his feet, the chill of the shade, the moisture in the air, the green light of sunlight filtered through hundreds of meters of foliage, the twist and turns of the bases of the trees, and of course banana slugs...each its own mystery, these things could not be captured, they had to be experienced.

Surely this sensory data must serve as more than just a source of stimulation? His neural pathways must be blossoming in the rush of new input. There must be some way he could reconcile these experiences with a logical purpose.

What else was he missing? He had exchanged a lab on Vulcan for a lab on Earth, but had the trajectory of his life really changed?

x x x x

"Hey, the little guy is still here," said Nyota staring at the banana slug on the log outside Commander Sharpton's house. Dinner was a few minutes away, they had just come back from the forest.

"That is a long one," said Patrick holding up a tricorder.

"Probably a record holder," said Yumi.

"Glad our toddler isn't here, he always tries to eat the big ones," said Patrick's wife Katie.

"Spock," asked Toshi, "If you touched it...would your telepathic touch allow you experience what the banana slug experiences?"

Suddenly five sets of human eyes were on Spock. He was squatting at eye level in front of the banana slug again. He reached out and put a finger about one centimeter in front of the slug instinctively, "Such primitive creatures are not cognizant of their experience. There is no awareness in the slug for me to share."

One of the tiny chemical receiving tentacles of the slug came into contact with Spock's finger. It was such a tiny movement that Spock could not even see it -- he merely felt the tiniest of pinpricks of electricity. Suddenly, all motion in the slug stopped.

"Hey, what happened?" said Patrick shaking the tricorder. "All his nervous system readouts just went blank. It looks like the little guy just died!"

Spock took a sharp intake of breath. Was the slug dead? What just happened? There was nothing in Vulcan literature on banana slugs, so he had no information on how his touch might have affected it. Nor could he remember Vulcan touch alone provoking death in any creature. He withdrew his hand.

Suddenly, of their own accord, the slug's tentacles started to wave, and its body began to flow once more along the log. Fascinating.

"Oh, there he is again. Maybe just a momentary glitch..." said Patrick studying the tricorder. "This thing is nearly ten years old…"

Spock decided not to comment. He suspected something had happened to the slug – but it would be unethical to experiment on a living creature.

Suddenly Diego, the Commander's husband, shouted from the house, "Hey everyone, dinner is ready!"

Patrick, Yumi, Toshi and Katie got up and started across the grass. Nyota and Spock just stared at the banana slug.

Nyota swallowed. Spock realized she was leaning even closer to the log than he was. She was perhaps the only person who realized he had touched the _Ariolimax_. "What happened, Spock? Did you just reboot the little guy's hard drive?"

"I do not know. Fascinating."

For some reason this did not provoke the normal Pavlovian Vulcan Giggle Effect.

"Come on," Nyota said, "Let's go inside."

**A/N**  
Birth control…banana slugs...and more! (Banana slugs are very real, and I think they are cool...but I am a nerd!)

Muir Woods is a real place…does not look like I've described it though.

I'm not sure if I should post short chapters on a regular basis, or long chapters less frequently. I haven't completely finished the thought here...but I don't know how long it will take me to write the next three short chapters.

Do you think it sort of is coming out though, why this is important to Spock's life? The thought/the outing continue into the next two chapters.

Wrote another story, Spock and his first time…"The Mirror", 'cause some people asked.


	39. Promises to Keep

=======================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Promises to Keep**

The rest of the evening became more confusing for Spock. There were a lot of people, a lot more who had walked through the forest with them. Seating was informal, but somehow officers wound up seated away from Cadets, so there was no Nyota at first.

There was a lot of alcohol. Granted, the Sharptons were good hosts, and some of the wine Spock imbibed was excellent, but he was uncomfortable with how alcohol made the humans even more emotionally expressive than they already were.

Nyota and he had determined that she would leave first, and he would follow later. Spock quickly regretted this decision. The conversation at the beginning of the evening was not to his liking.

There was the normal human penchant for gossip and much commenting on Xelium and Dalang's absence. From what Spock could gather they never came to 'these things'. Apparently that was frowned upon. This was confusing.

It was an informal social gathering, participation was not necessary to do ones job competently, and there was no decree that stated one _had_ to attend. It was another frustrating, illogical, unwritten human social rule.

There were also a lot of niceties exchanged about the weather and families. Subjects that were uncomfortable to a Vulcan, even a half Vulcan. Why talk about the weather when it was self evident? And of course he was uncomfortable with anyone asking him questions about his personal life. Fortunately, he was seated between Patrick and Toshi, and the only time they'd ask him questions about his family was during a 5D chess match.

Then the party started to thin. Officers left with their spouses and at one point almost all the cadets left en masse via a personal transport. As Patrick said, "Only us hard core geeks are left -- now the night gets interesting."

The conversation turned and it was a lot like being at the formal dinner after the Symposium--without dancing or a Vulcan Interspecies Council looking on...but with more alcohol. Nyota, Adam and another cadet slipped into empty chairs at the officers table.

"Uhura," said the Commander, "Are you ready to start investigating the Sol System?"

"Yes, Commander!" Nyota replied.

"Speaking of..." The Commander turned to him. "How is wrapping up that paper going, Spock?"

"Yes," Nyota chimed in, "How is it going? I want to begin investigating the Sol System as soon as I get back from Africa."

Before Spock could come up with a dignified answer Patrick jumped in. "Whoa, is your assistant always on your back like that, Spock?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "On my back?"

Nyota licked her lips. Did she seem nervous? "It's an expression, Spock. Asking you if I'm 'on your back' is another way of asking if I'm nagging you about the Sol System assignment."

He looked at Patrick, and the Commander, "Historically, no, she has not. But I suspect that in the coming months she will be 'on my back' quite frequently."

A foot connected sharply with his shin under the table, judging from its trajectory...He looked at Nyota. She was not looking at him, but she did look upset. Odd.

Patrick thumped Spock hard on the shoulder, right where Nyota had so lovingly marked him. Through the burn several neurons in Spock's brain suddenly connected quite brightly.

'On his back' indeed. Despite the horrid breach of etiquette on Patrick's part, he felt the same pleasant sense of satisfaction he got when he told Nyota an effective joke. He took a sip of wine to hide the quirk forming on his lips.

"At least you've got an assistant that is passionate, most of mine are just going through the motions," said Patrick.

Well that was too much. Spock swallowed. He had no reply for that. He looked up at Nyota, she was focusing her eyes deep into the glass of wine she was holding up to her mouth.

"You can bet I'll be on your back too this semester, Spock..." said the Commander.

One of Spock's eyebrows went up...there was an image he didn't want to contemplate. The sense of pleasant satisfaction vanished. His head tilted to the side. Nyota started to cough.

"That transmission is just too interesting..." finished the Commander. Then she looked at Nyota, "Are you alright Uhura?"

Nyota smiled and nodded at the Commander, then she turned to Toshi and Yumi said through gritted teeth, "I've been wanting to chat with you about the Japanese philosophy of Shintoism and how it might have influenced the Japanese perception of robotics and AI..."

And so the conversation turned to twenty first century Japan. Nyota wondered if the wide belief in Shintoism, which gave even inanimate objects like rocks souls, was why the Japanese had turned to robots more readily than any other Terran culture. If a rock could have a soul, she reasoned, why not a robot?

This turned the discussion to Japanese art forms known as Manga and Anime -- which Spock understood to be cartoons. Toshi got extremely excited about a series called 'Ghost in the Machine', but Adam, Nyota and Yumi had never heard of the series before.

"I was under the impression that 'Ghost in the Machine' was from Ryle's refutation of Descartes' mind-body dualism..." Spock said, "...where the 'Ghost' is the primal destructive emotions such as anger and hatred that can over power man's higher logical functioning. I did not know that 'Ghost in the Machine' referred to...a cartoon."

"You're right...that is not the name of the series at all! Thank you, Spock!" exclaimed Toshi

...and then in the typical twisting nature of human conversations a discussion of Descartes and his detractors began. Of course the discussion didn't follow a logical trajectory.

"Why do we even have to think of the primal impulses like anger as negative? Sometimes anger serves a useful purpose. To right an injustice for instance. Or even self defense. Self defense is logical, even to Vulcans correct Spock?" asked Toshi.

"Self defense is logical. But it is imperative to make sure acts of self defense originate from logic and not anger," said Spock.

"But in the heat of the moment, you don't have time to analyze the logic of your actions." Patrick replied.

"That is why we have rules of conduct that define what is and what is not justifiable self defense. So in the 'heat of the moment' when quick judgment is required there is no need for conflict on the matter. For more complex issues deliberation and time are required, to make sure decisions are not made based on the primal impulses described by your Terran philosophers." Spock responded.

"Why are all of the 'primal impulses' described by Koestler only negative emotions?" asked Nyota.

"She's right," said the Commander, "Can't love be described as a primal impulse? Part of the 'ghost' within the logical man...and if so maybe the ghost isn't as destructive as our philosophers would have us believe."

Which led to a discussion of Muir Woods, and the destructive conflict predicted by Koestler as a logical consequence of man's inner 'ghost' of emotion over riding higher reasoning...did the conflict disprove their hypothesis that the ghost was not entirely destructive?

"Of course," commented Yumi, "We are preserving the forest at great expense and effort...is that an act of love? Or does it serve some logical purpose?"

"Anyone who had a banana slug eating toddler who wakes up four times a night would understand that without irrational love, human beings would all be strangled by their parents before they reached an age old enough to create nuclear chaos," piped Katie.

"Yeah," said Patrick, "No irrational love, no irrational anger, but no logical mind either. Pointless discussion. Have I told any of you about my theory for a fourteenth dimension?"

And suddenly they were discussing multidimensional physics.

Listening to Patrick's explanation of his theory was fascinating -- both for the theory itself and how well he articulated after the amount of wine he'd imbibed. But as the evening wore on Spock began to have trouble concentrating.

Nyota and he still planned on leaving separately. He was extremely uncomfortable with this. It was dark, the guests were inebriated, and they were in a far more rural location than he had anticipated. And he knew she wanted to leave alone. "If I go by myself I don't have to make any excuses when I slip off the shuttle near your place...and I don't have to go all the way to the dorm and come back."

He of course suggested that she didn't need to do either...the logical solution was to stay at the dorm. But he wasn't very convincing.

Only Commander Sharpton, Patrick, Toshi, Nyota and Spock were left at the table. Of all of them, Nyota was the least intoxicated. Diego had taken the other cadets, Yumi, and Katie off to help him improve the ballistics of some primitive projectile devices he referred to as a 'potato guns'. Some other officers were chatting in the kitchen.

"So, I'm thinking of calling my fourteenth dimension theory the Q Theory. Technically it should be the P theory, but I don't want to_ goooooo_ there." Patrick finished in a slurred voice. Everyone at the table except Spock burst into laughter -- even Nyota, who didn't care about or understand multidimensional theory very much.

Spock tilted his head.

"Don't you get it, Spock?" asked Patrick. "Ever since eleven dimensions were unified by the M theory we've always advanced the name of the theory by one letter each time a new dimension is identified..."

"Hey, does anyone have the time?" asked Nyota.

"It is currently 22:58, Cadet," said Spock not turning his eyes from Patrick. "Yes, I understand the Terran convention for naming dimensional theories. It is highly illogical."

"Hey, he didn't look at a watch. How did he know the time, Uhura?" asked the Commander.

"Our naming convention has sentimental value," said Patrick to Spock.

"He has a very good internal clock." Nyota replied to the Commander.

"The Spock clock!" said Toshi.

Spock began his rebuttal to Patrick, "It is a sentiment that makes multidimensional physics just that much more difficult for humans to understand."

"Hey, Spock isn't a clock!" Nyota retorted to Toshi.

"_Eh,_ I didn't mean it like that..." said Toshi.

"Respectfully, Lieutenant Commander O'Hara," Spock continued, "It would be much more logical to..."

"I had better go if I'm going to catch the 23:30 shuttle," Nyota said.

Spock stopped arguing with Patrick and turned to look at Nyota. He noticed that everyone else was looking at her as well.

"Cadet, is it really wise for you to walk alone to the shuttle stop? We are in a rural area, it is dark and unlit." Spock said.

"I'll be fine," said Nyota arching an eyebrow at him. "I come from a semi-rural area."

"Spock is right, Uhura," said Patrick.

Spock lifted an eyebrow. He was right? Had he done the right thing?

Patrick continued, "Katie and I can give you a lift back to the dorms when I pry the potato gun out of her hands. Probably another hour or so..."

"No, thank you. I'd rather leave now." Nyota started to stand up.

Spock's fist clenched involuntarily. "Cadet, I need to catch the shuttle too. If you do not mind I will walk to the shuttle stop with you," he said.

"Good idea." said the Commander. "Spock, walk with Uhura to the shuttle stop. Make sure she gets home safely..."

A good idea? He had reacted purely on instinct. Although clearly he was breaking Nyota and his own rules, evidently he_ wasn't_ breaking any unwritten human social rules. Perhaps he was beginning to understand humans better.

And...Spock looked at the Commander...did he just get ordered by his commanding officer to get Nyota home safely? It was illogical to presume that the universe conspired to arrange events in your favor. However...

Nyota was now out of her chair. Was she scowling?

"...of course she doesn't mind, Spock...its foolish to walk alone here" said the Commander looking pointedly up at Nyota. "...and she's known you long enough to realize you don't bite."

Nyota's face went completely blank, and just for a few heartbeats she stared at an indefinable space just above Spock's left shoulder. Spock couldn't move, let alone speak.

Suddenly Nyota smiled brightly, faced the Commander, and said, "Well, not on most days."

Exhaling sharply Spock felt as though he'd just been dealt a punch to the stomach...and then he realized everyone at the table had burst into laughter.

"_Hai, Hai!_" exclaimed Toshi, lifting a glass of wine. "We've, had to deal with some of his former assistants. He can deliver quite a biting critique."

"...the perfectionist ba-- son of a human and a Vulcan," added Patrick.

It dawned on Spock that Nyota had completely neutralized the situation. She was brilliant -- even while slightly intoxicated.

He felt the same pleasant sense of satisfaction he felt earlier. Simultaneously suppressing the inclination to quirk the corners of his lips and the impulse to lift an eyebrow, he shifted his shoulders ever so slightly -- just enough so he could feel a burn in his left shoulder.

Maybe today might have to be one of _those_ days?

Standing up he nodded at Nyota being careful to keep his face impassive. "Shall we?" he asked.

x x x x

**A/N:**

O.K., so this is my first full length novella, or whatever. How did the two conversations at once work out?

Wrapping up this little story arc next chapter (not the whole story, this little story arc.)


	40. Miles to Go

=======================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Miles to Go** **Before Sleep**

The Commander gave Nyota a small flashlight to carry, so they could see and be seen. And then Nyota handled all the goodbyes, with aplomb it seemed to Spock. Spock just nodded. His head was spinning from double entendres and innuendo. Pleasantly spinning...but he didn't feel like testing his knowledge of human behavior any more than he already had that evening.

They walked down the rural road. As soon as they were out of earshot of the house Nyota burst out laughing, bouncing the beam of light from the borrowed flashlight wildly in front of them. Spock had to control an urge to link with her right then and there, just to feel the buzz her furious laughter would bring to his fingertips.

"You thought it was funny. You got it, didn't you, Spock?"

She aimed the flashlight beam at him. Breaking his stride he turned towards her and lifted an eyebrow. "I did, as you say, 'get the joke'." He switched to Vulcan without thinking. "_Would it have been appropriate to mention that you bite back?"_

She burst into laughter again, then collected herself. "In that voice, in Vulcan..." She switched to his native tongue. _"It would have been highly inappropriate, Spock."_

He wanted to link with her...

"Spock, I so want to kiss you."

Suddenly he was uncomfortably aware of how close they both were to initiating intimate physical contact in a location that wasn't entirely private.

Turning again to walk down the road he said, "That would be in clear violation of Rule 2, forbidding demonstrations of physical affection in public places."

Nyota matched his stride. "This isn't exactly public in the public eye, unless you count the waving eye stalks of the banana slugs. And we're already breaking Rule 5, which forbids coming and going from public events together."

"It is a fallacy of logic to justify one wrong with another."

Nyota sighed.

Spock bowed his head. He knew she missed the easy spontaneity of human affection; that she craved a physical demonstration of love, no matter how small, outside the confines of his quarters. And he knew it wasn't just rules they devised that kept him from showing it. It was just so alien to _his_ culture...In her culture it was simply taken for granted. Didn't she accept him for who he was and where he came from?

He took a deep breath and gently nudged her shoulder with his.

"Spock, thousands of banana slugs have just been scandalized."

Since banana slugs obviously couldn't be scandalized it was logical to presume she was joking... He looked down at her just for visual verification. She graced him with an enormous grin.

x x x x

The experience of time was relative, obviously. The shuttle ride back to the city and the walk to his apartment seemed unusually long. Although he noted, it took exactly two minutes and thirty eight seconds less than the trip to the Commander's house had.

They were in his door at exactly 11:58. Spock immediately pushed his forehead to Nyota's, and put a hand up to her temples. In his urgency to do so he literally backed her against the wall of the foyer. Through the cool skin on her temples he felt...

_Love, happiness, desire..._

These emotions were both comfortable and exciting to him now.

"Mission completed," Spock said.

"Mission?" asked Nyota reaching up to put a cool hand on his cheek.

"As you recall, my commanding officer ordered me to see you home safely."

She laughed and his fingers buzzed.

"Whose home, Lieutenant?"

Despite the fact she was addressing him by his rank he could feel through the link that she wasn't upset. It must be part of the joke.

Pulling away he looked her directly in the eyes. Tilting his head and lifting an eyebrow he responded, "That was never clarified, Cadet."

Buzzing fingers told him she thought this was very humorous, although she made no sound.

He bent down and gently tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth.

x x x x

Spock was laying on his side, the comforter draped over him, his back slightly raw. Nyota was laying on her side too, facing him just a few inches away. Their legs were intertwined at the knees, Nyota said that anymore than that and she got too hot. She was tracing his lips with a finger.

"Nyota," Spock said, "Yesterday, our trip to Muir Woods was very...interesting." Muir Woods was yesterday at that moment, it was 02:00. Nyota would be leaving that evening for Africa.

"It was a great day," she said. "The Commander, Diego, Patrick, Toshi...they are all great people."

Spock tilted his head, that hadn't been what was on his mind at the exact moment...but...

"The conversation was stimulating," he admitted. He had enjoyed the discussions of philosophy, physics, history and culture. Even if they hadn't been deep he had at least been exposed to ideas that he may not have encountered otherwise.

There was something else. Although the crowds at the beginning of the dinner had not been to his liking, the group they had found themselves with at the end of the night had been comfortable.

He hadn't felt precisely as though he fit in; he didn't feel human, the cultural differences had been quite apparent. The physiological differences had been apparent too -- he had drunk nearly six glasses of wine without becoming intoxicated. And it wasn't just that he didn't show emotion as easily as they did, he couldn't. And yet...

He had felt accepted. Hadn't he been told that humans tended to bond with acquaintances purely due to association? Undoubtedly, it was a weak bond, but it was more than he might have expected from Vulcans.

He struggled to articulate his thoughts to Nyota. His ability to communicate feelings verbally was primitive.

At last he said, "...and I believe your assessment of the personal qualities of the Commander, Patrick, Toshi and their partners is correct."

She smiled, "Of course it is. It was nice to play house with them."

"Play house?"

"I mean it was nice to pretend that we were almost like a real couple."

"We are not a 'real' couple?" He was momentarily stunned. He reached up and put a hand on her temple and he felt...

_Anger, frustration, sadness..._

"We're real, but all the secrecy...I hate it."

And she did. As much as him.

"I understand," he said. Bumping his forehead gently against hers he tried to send her his feeling of comprehension. It seemed inadequate though.

She continued, "Yesterday, at the Commander's house, we weren't affectionate, but we were with other couples. Sometimes I imagined that everyone knew we were together, and it made me happy."

The negative emotions were still bubbling through the link. To acknowledge them was reasonable. To dwell in them was unhealthy. Spock tried to lighten the mood. "With all the intimate commentary, it rather seemed they did know we were together."

She laughed and his fingers buzzed happily. "I did my best not to look like a dope when the biting thing came up."

"You handled the situation brilliantly," he said.

"Mmmmm," she said reaching beneath the comforter and tracing a lazy path up his thigh, "Flattery will get you everywhere."

He opened his mouth to correct that statement, but she said, "Don't respond to that, I know Vulcans don't flatter.

She was quiet for a moment. "Was there something in particular you found interesting about yesterday?" she asked him, her cool hand coming to rest on his waist.

He felt a bit embarrassed. After so deep a revelation from her, his was well...

"I was speaking _only_ of our trip to Muir Woods...not the whole day. At the moment I spoke I was thinking specifically about _Ariolimax californicus_."

She removed her hand from beneath the comforter and used it to take his hand that was at her temple. She brought his hand down to her mouth and kissed it. Her fingers moved down to his wrist. They were now completely unlinked. "You mean the banana slug?" She looked concerned. He hadn't expected that reaction.

"Yes. Did you know there is no Vulcan literature on this creature at all?"

Now she smiled. "You know Spock, looking back on it, in all my studies of Vulcan, I don't believe I was ever called upon to read any treatises on banana slugs...ever."

"You are teasing me, are you not?"

"Yes."

He nodded, "That is acceptable."

Then he continued, "Curiosity is acceptable for Vulcans, as long as it isn't indulged purely for the sake of stimulation. Yesterday, I found the trip through the forest, quite stimulating. But I struggled with a logical reason to justify the indulgence. Granted, due to yesterday's circumstances, an invitation from a superior officer, I could justify that particular outing...but I was uncertain if I could justify similar explorations in the future.

"But then my encounter with the _Ariolimax_..."

"Banana slug."

"...as you say. My encounter with the _Ariolimax, _and its quite unexpected reaction to physical contact with me, demonstrated that there is much to be gained from explorations that might seem, on the outset, to have no logical purpose.

"I have thought a great deal about the encounter, I am afraid I do not have the time or facilities to conduct proper experiments to determine what exactly occurred..."

"...when you rebooted its brain." Nyota interrupted.

"It is surprising, is it not, that such a simple creature does, in fact, have a brain? As to your theory of a reboot, it is an interesting hypothesis, but one that would of course need to be tested in the lab.

"I will certainly write up my observations and send them to the appropriate channels in the Vulcan Science Academy." He was staring at a space above her shoulder as he contemplated this.

"So what you are saying is?" Nyota prompted.

"I think that more 'outings' beyond the lab would be quite stimulating and logically quite defensible."

"In other words..." Nyota prompted again.

"It would be beneficial to travel, and explore more. I have been to most of the old world major metropolitan centers. The places of interest mentioned in every Vulcan guide. But I think it would be of further benefit, both to myself and the greater population at large, to go further afield."

Nyota brought his hand back up to her temple and he turned to look at her. Her eyes were shining. "So, My Spock, you are thinking of traveling more?"

She said, 'My Spock' in English. It didn't have quite the same effect on him as it did in Vulcan, but it was still quite lovely.

"Indeed, My Nyota, that is what I said." He brought his face closer to hers.

"You could start by coming to visit me in Africa...."


	41. Invitations

=======================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Invitations**

Visit her in Africa? There were wild elephants in Africa...of course they were well studied by Vulcans already.

But besides logical justifications for such a journey, he had other uncertainties.

"Nyota, your parents are not informed of our relationship. Nor, do I think you wish them to be."

Through the link he felt...

_Disappointment..._

She swallowed. "No, I haven't told them anything. My brother is the only one who knows anything at all, and we haven't talked in months. Now he is off in the neutral zone doing God knows what."

He hesitated here. He knew she found it both difficult and necessary not to divulge to her parents the nature of their relationship. "If I came would you be comfortable keeping our relationship secret?"

"No, I guess I would feel incredibly uncomfortable, Spock."

Through the link he felt...

_Sadness..._

Pushing her face forward she kissed him gently. Then she brought her forehead to his.

She sighed. "Now is not the right time...It is just that I will miss you so much."

"We will only be apart twenty three days, three hours and forty nine minutes, Nyota. And I have calculated that the risk of serious harm coming to you to be less than one in two million nine hundred thirty five thousand. Since I am not traveling my risk is significantly lower. It is highly unlikely that we will not see each other again."

She pulled back and stared at him. Through the link he felt...

_Puzzlement..._

Then she laughed. "Leave all your preconceived notions of romance at the door..."

x x x x

The first few days Nyota was gone Spock hardly noticed. He went to work. He turned in all his grades and began wrapping up the previous stage of his and Nyota's research. He had a chess match with Patrick and Toshi. He ate -- without having to modulate his appetite around Nyota when he was at home, slept, meditated, worked out.

Then little things began to happen that he found disturbing. He found an article in a journal about the morphology of Gorn vocal chords that he knew she'd like. He forwarded it to her, but it wasn't the same as discussing it.

There was a transport crash in Nigeria. Thousands of miles from Nyota's location, but it occurred to him that if she were injured he would probably not know until the day of her scheduled return.

And if something did happen to her and she was convalescent, would her family allow him to visit her? Worrying was pointless and illogical, but he found himself thinking about it. He told himself he was merely reviewing scenarios so that he would be better able to react in the event that one occurred.

Patrick came to his office the third day after she left -- at a time that a week ago would have found Nyota working with him. "Hey Spock, I just learned from the Commander about the next stage in your research. It sounds really interesting. I thought I'd just come by and get on your back about it too."

...and there was no one to burst out laughing when Patrick left his lab.

Before their relationship had changed there were a few weeks when Spock hadn't seen Nyota outside of work. And he'd missed her then. Or he had thought he had missed her. It was nothing like what he felt now.

He felt space, an emptiness in his gut that nagged at everything he did and gave him dark imaginings. Who was she with? Was she safe? Did she also hurt?

It was highly illogical -- a fault of their peculiar bond. When she was near, he felt as though she were his bonded mate. He didn't believe any mind meld could bring them closer. Between their words, and their empathic links, he didn't feel anything was missing.

But when they were apart...

When he had bonded to T'Pring they had participated in a mind meld. Until their bond was broken he was always aware of her presence in his mind. The presence wasn't at the forefront of his consciousness, nor was the presence welcome...but she was always there. If he had needed, or wanted, he could have reached out to her -- or her to him, although it had never happened. They had been uniquely unsuited for one another.

He called Nyota the evening of the third day. They had been in touch via email, but had not spoken. He told her about Patrick's peculiar turn of phrase and she laughed. He raised an eyebrow at her laughing visage on the screen and said, "Nyota, why are you laughing? I would have thought that Patrick 'on my back' would be an image you certainly would not want to think about."

She knew he was joking and laughed again. Then she said, "Spock I've missed you!"

And suddenly he couldn't speak -- as usual when an emotional response was required. His hand rose of its own accord to contact her temple and touched an inanimate monitor instead.

He knew then, for certain, that their relationship would not survive a long time apart without a mind meld. Unlike a human he would be unable to supply the verbal emotional give and take such a relationship would require.

But although mind melds were an integral part of Vulcan intimacy they were also used for rape and torture, they could transmit viruses...and they could be botched. Emotional distress or simple inexperience could lead to lasting trauma.

Spock was inexperienced. The only sentient being he had melded with was T'Pring during their bonding at age seven. As was the custom, there were adults present during the ceremony. Had something gone wrong they would have been on hand to assist and prevent permanent injury.

He was afraid to mind meld with Nyota without this support. His general inexperience would be coupled with her different neuroanatomy and neurophysiology which made him especially wary.

He needed to bond with her in the official way and to do that he needed an elder Vulcan's approval and presence. Until there were no longer Star Fleet regulations barring intimate relations between them no elder Vulcan would preside over their bonding. It would be illogical.

So he would have to wait for her to graduate. How long would he have before she was assigned to a star ship?

He remembered Brian's comment, "every year a handful of Cadets wind up magically falling in love with their former instructors and getting married approximately one week after graduation". A bonding ceremony wasn't quite a marriage...but it is close enough for comparison in this case. Would he and Nyota be one of _those_ instructors and former Cadets?

x x x x

He had coping mechanisms for dealing with emotional imbalance. He threw himself into work. He meditated more.

He also found himself working out more than normal. He added martial arts and a punching bag to his routine. He was very well versed in Vulcan and human techniques, but hadn't practiced for a while. The additional mental concentration combined with physical exertion seemed to clear his mind more than meditation alone.

By the beginning of week two he had finished the first draft of his paper. He needed to submit it to his commanding officer. Unfortunately, she and half the department were on vacation -- even Patrick and Toshi were off.

As week two wore on he found himself communicating less with Nyota, not more. It was his fault. He felt uncomfortably unable to express what was on his mind. And he was unsure if her parents were aware of how much he was in touch with their daughter, or if it was appropriate.

That was how, in fit of misdirected attention perhaps, he wound up confiding in another human female, in a way that was quite uncharacteristic.


	42. Openings

=======================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Openings**

"Spock, what's wrong?"

"Why do you suspect that something is wrong, Mother?" Spock asked her image on the screen.

She smiled at him. "Because you called me."

Ah, yes.

His mother continued, "It isn't our usually scheduled call, my birthday, Christmas, or Mother's Day...I've been away from Earth a long time, is there a holiday I've forgotten?"

"No."

She looked at him for a few moments. "Can you tell me what is troubling you?"

Spock tilted his head and looked away from the screen. He didn't actually have a plan of attack.

His mother, of course, knew what to do. She began asking him questions about things she knew he would be comfortable talking about. Scholarly articles of mutual interest, his teaching, his research...

"And how is your assistant, Cadet Uhura?"

It wasn't unusual for her to inquire about Nyota. Spock had, of course, informed his mother of their working relationship.

"At this precise moment I am uncertain." Spock looked away at a point beyond his monitor. "Cadet Uhura is in Kenya, visiting her family."

"Ahh...Kenya...Your father and I went there long ago, before you were born. We stayed at Ambroseli, under the shadow of Kilimanjaro...Of course we went to meet the elephants."

"Did you enjoy yourself, Mother?" He wondered how that experience translated for a human -- he had, of course, read the Vulcan accounts.

"Oh yes, I experienced it through your father. It was wonderful. Very romantic." Her eyes got a far away look.

"Romantic?" Spock tilted his head. Romantic...elephants?

"It was something I could only have experienced with your father, no one else. That made it very romantic.

"It was," she finished softly, "An experience that...I will never forget. I am so glad I didn't miss it."

Spock stared at the screen a moment. Then he regained his composure enough to ask a few polite questions.

Just before saying goodbye his mother asked, "Have I helped you?"

He answered truthfully. "I do not know for certain, Mother. But thank you."

His mother had given him something. A concrete purpose, an objective he could use as an opening. Whether it would work...

As soon as the connection to his mother was finished he sent Nyota a message:  
_  
It has come to my attention that humans can appreciate meeting elephants alongside Vulcans and the experience can be gratifying for all parties._

_If you would like to reconsider your invitation I will be able to transport in Friday afternoon. I can seek accommodations at a hotel that is in a location you believe to be most convenient._

_Do not concern yourself with the paper on solar subspace noise, I have completed the first draft and you need not be 'on my back' in this regard._

_Spock_


	43. Arrivals

**====================  
DISCLAIMER: It isn't mine. And I'm not making any $ off of this. Sigh.**

**Arrivals**

Jabari carefully put the scroll down in the padded box. He gazed around him at the odds and ends in the small room, windowless room. He wanted to ask her about these pieces. He knew she'd find them interesting -- even though to most people these particular treasures would look like space junk. He turned off the light and closed the door.

He made his way out into the living room he hardly lived in. Eying the paintings leaning against the walls, the statues, and artifacts that sat on the floor he thought about what his crew would do if they knew he kept mementos. Mutiny? No, he'd made them all too many credits and too much latinum. They would definitely think he was insane -- well they already thought that. There were just some things he couldn't bring himself to assign monetary value to.

With quick moves he went to a staircase and made his way down to his place of business. Illuminated only by U.V. blocking skylights overhead the room was nearly barren. All but three of the twenty display cases were now empty. The risks he had taken, the visit to Earth, they had been worth it. His hands went to his shaved scalp and brushed the scar that ran from his temple to just behind his right ear. Yeah, even worth that.

Opening the security panel just inside the door of the display room he turned and took one last look. He'd made more than enough on the last mission to retire...and yet...when you find something you love and are good at it is hard to stop. And now he had a crew that depended on him.

Looking back to the security panel he verified that all access points to the flat were secure. "Computer, close skylights and windows. On my exit secure the main door. Set access to triple lock. Admittance only with retinal scan, voice recognition and access code."

"Please state access code."

He smiled, "N-Y-0-T-A-0-7-14."

"Access code set. Security protocols initiated."

With that Jabari made his way to the turbolift. The door of the flat whooshed behind him.

Waiting for the lift he checked out his appearance in the mirror in the hallway. Gray button down shirt, black pants, neat black shoes. The only adornment he wore was a titanium ring on the small finger of his left hand. He paused to admire the gentle script etched on its surface. It had been a gift from an unusual friend.

Then he looked up at the mirror again. He was still darker than Nyota, but the years on board ship with limited access to sunlight had taken their toll. Where he once had been the color of black coffee he now looked like he'd been cut with milk. She'd notice. Probably worry. Or at least tease him mercilessly. He looked at the scar on his head and grimaced...that would make her worry. Probably best not to even try to explain that.

Exiting the building he stepped out into the Friday afternoon rush. He smiled. The skyscrapers of his city gleamed gold and orange in the late afternoon sunlight. No matter how far away in the galaxy he traveled he couldn't help but be proud of Nairobi, and of Africa. The new old world. It was true, _most_ of the old 'culture' and monuments of Earth resided in Europe, Asia and the America's. But Nairobi was the beating heart of the _new_ culture.

Before the war struggling nations of the old-old world had cut off their aid to African governments as budgets shrank and their people turned inwards. Whole African regimes had toppled with the cessation of outside support. The chaos of the dark times came faster than it had to the rest of the world -- but the recovery came faster too.

The African people were used to making do as inept governments supported and often manipulated by outside parties squandered their resources. When the dark times came starvation had not been as widespread in African as it was in other places. When inept governments fell, new ones rose -- but this time revolution not only started from the ground up, it was maintained from the ground up. There were no outside agencies, political or private, that could afford to coddle despots.

And the revolution hadn't really stopped. There was a reason this region of the world was known as the United States of Africa. Despite their allegiance to the Federation the new USA had a lot in common with the United States of America before it had become a symbol of decay and corruption.

The United States of Africa overflowed with entrepreneurs, idealism and optimism. It was still a place where anyone could make it...where your worth was determined by what you did, not whether you had a fancy degree, were part of Star Fleet or the Diplomatic Corp. Compared to other places on Earth bureaucracy was light. The Federation was respected here as a necessary evil, but not worshiped.

Some might say people in the United States of Africa judged success by how many credits one carried in their pockets. Jabari was comfortable with this. It was inadequate of course, but what did you judge a man by? His job? How smart he was? Who his parents were? His titles? Where he worked? Where he went to school? The content of his character -- well that would be wonderful, but how did you measure that?

He had tried to explain this to Nyota. She never quite understood it. With parents who were anomalies in this part of the world -- a former Star Fleet officer father, a mother from the Diplomatic Corps who was now a university lecturer...Some apples couldn't fall far from the tree. The fact that she had defied both parents' concerns for her safety, and enlisted in Star Fleet was actually an act of rebellion on her part.

Ah well...she was the only one who remotely understood him. He forgave her for her lack of imagination. He absently traced the line of the scar on his head...then put his hand down to his hip...involuntarily it fluttered there looking for something he had begun to carry regularly but had put aside for this trip...

All things considered, Star Fleet was probably safer than the life he'd chosen, rebellious even by Nairobian standards.

He gauged the time to be nearly 15:00. He took out a timepiece to confirm...15:05. He sighed -- a few more business engagements before personal engagements.

x x x x x x x

Getting Friday and Monday off as personal days had been surprisingly easy. Spock had not taken any leave in years. He communicated his request to the officer who was filling in for Commander Sharpton. The officer took one look at his record and gave him immediate approval. Actually, not knowing the officer may have made it easier, he did not ask Spock any friendly questions.

At 15:25 on Friday Spock materialized at the Nairobi Transporter Terminal amid a crowd of fifty other travelers. Dressed entirely in civilian clothing, nothing would give him away as Star Fleet personnel. Readjusting his duffel bag on his shoulder he scanned an expectant crowd of every hue looking for Nyota. At last he saw her, hopping up and down, trying to be seen over the head and antennae of a rather large Andorian. He nodded at her, and his lips quirked upwards.

"Everyone off the platform, unless you're missing your baggage or any fingers or toes," called an irritated transport attendant.

Not taking his eyes off Nyota, Spock stepped down and pushed his way through the crowd. Just before he reached her she opened her arms as though to give him a hug. He stopped in his tracks involuntarily.

She put her hands together in front of her. "Sorry, Spock. I got carried away."

"It is quite alright." He closed the gap between them and for five point five seconds just stared down at her

"I am happy to see you too," she said with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

He nodded.

"Shall I take you to your lodgings?" Nyota asked.

He tilted his head, "That would be most welcome."

As soon as they were through the door of his hotel room he dropped his duffel bag unceremoniously on the floor. Before he even had a chance to bring his hand to her temple she had his face in her hands and was pelting him with kisses, a wide smile on her face.

"I'm so glad we reconsidered!" she said. Shifting her arms, she let her left hand run fingers through his hair and slid her right arm down to hold onto his back -- this gave his left hand access to her forehead.

Bringing his left hand up he touched the familiar coolness of her right temple.

"I missed you!" she said and through the link he felt the same sensation that had haunted him.

"The same," he murmured. All of the empty feelings of the past two and three quarter weeks seemed to flow out of him in an instant. She pulled him in more tightly...and then he was just happy to be with her again and all the emptiness was gone.

A buzzing of laughter started to build in his finger tips. "Spock," she said, "I am happy to see you...but what is it with Vulcans and elephants?"

He transmitted the pleasant sense of satisfaction he felt when he told her a good joke and whispered, "I hope you will be able to see."

"You know, I have seen elephants before...a few...I don't know...hundred times."

"But have you ever met any?" he asked.

She pulled back and looked at him suspiciously.

"I have not met any either," he admitted. "However, my mother was telling me how much she enjoyed the experience through my father, and how happy she was that she did not miss the opportunity to meet them with him. So after some consideration I thought, perhaps..."

"You are taking me to do something your parents did together?" Suddenly through the link he felt...

...Warmth? Affection? A heaviness? He couldn't quite place the emotion.

"Yes." He said.

The mystery emotion was still there...

"That is so sweet!" Suddenly a long kiss was on his lips.

So 'sweet' was the most likely identity of the mystery emotion. There were twenty one definitions for the word sweet...

Another kiss hit his lips. And then she broke the link as she turned her head to breathe gently on his ear...

She didn't get to stay with him that night; she was staying at her parents' house. At 23:00 she reluctantly rolled out of bed. He bumped her forehead goodbye at the door.

Turning up the thermostat in his room he straightened the duvet, arranged himself cross legged on the bed and mediated. She was well. Their emotional connection was re-established. He did not miss her.

x x x x x x x

It was nearly 23:42 when Jabari pulled up to the house. The transport that Ny usually drove wasn't parked out front. He hadn't called ahead; he just thought for sure she would be here. He parked his loaner vehicle and was about to head towards the house when the brights of a transport sent his shadow dancing across the lawn.

He turned and saw the vehicle brake to a halt. And then Nyota was out the hatch and staring at him in surprise. Smiling wildly he opened his arms. Her face broke out in a wide grin and giving a soft shout she sprinted across the lawn into his embrace. She was still so tiny -- nearly a head shorter than him, and still so light.

Laughing, Jabari spun the only girl he let himself love around, not once, but twice, before putting her back down on the ground.


	44. Rivalry

**=================================================  
DISCLAIMER: It isn't mine.**

**Rivalry**

"I missed you little sister!" Jabari beamed, resting his head on top of hers.

"I missed you too big brother!" Nyota said.

He let her go and they they walked up to the porch that ran the length of the now dark house. The whir of the transports had apparently not awakened anyone. He was glad they'd run into each other outside so late in the evening. Now they had a chance to catch up without the intrusion of their parents.

Every visit home began and ended like this for Jabari. Talking to his sister until the early hours of the morning. Sometimes here. Sometimes at his flat. How many times had she fallen asleep on his couch while he chatted on about...well...everything?

"...and so now I have my own boat," He said, leaning against on of the porch's columns. "You're looking at a genuine ship's captain..." He smiled at her. He was proud of his achievement. He was just past thirty.

"Are you a registered captain of your _sightseeing_ vessel?" Ny asked him. She held up her fingers to make quotation in the air when she said sightseeing.

"Hey! What does that have to do with anything?"

She arched an eyebrow at him.

"Well, I'm registered under Ferengi jurisdiction. You can't register as a commercial captain of a space going vehicle here on Earth without going through Star Fleet's licensing process -- pain in the ass, exorbitant fees, and paperwork that takes years without a squadron of lawyers. The system is designed to keep little guys like me out of the game."

"Yeah, well, I imagine it takes time and money to verify that a captain, can, you know, fly..."

"Hey, I resent that." He aimed a punch at her arm. Grinning she dodged, and then planted a punch of her own on his shoulder.

"Ow!" He said, rubbing his shoulder in mock pain. She stuck out her tongue.

He continued. "I learned to fly a boat in the best school there is. Space. I'm more than a match for any of your Star Fleet navigators who learn to fly in simulation...if they mess up, they loose points. If I mess up, I die."

"That isn't exactly comforting. And neither is that scar on your head." She smacked the air in front of his face as she said this. "Don't they have dermkits on your boat?"

Her words were hard, but her face was etched with concern. Time to change the subject.

"And how about you, Ny? How are you doing? How is Mad Dog, your Vulcan superior officer doing?" It turned out Star Fleet had only one Vulcan -- and an Interspecies Council...the Council members were all withered old men. He knew exactly who had tried to seduce his sister. She had not been exactly pleased when she learned he'd done his homework.

"Must you call Spock, Mad Dog? And he is only half Vulcan," she said defensively.

"Uh-huh. Is he still pursuing you? Still don't believe me that he is pursuing you?" He'd heard about all the meals, and the coffee-tea breaks, and the outings to cultural events and lectures of mutual interest...and the fact the guy was learning Trill, you know, just for the heck of it.

Not that he would blame the guy for finally recognizing his sister for the catch she really was...

"Well...you were right about the pursuing thing..."

"Ha! He came clean did he? And you shot him down, right? Told the green blooded bastard he'd had his chance and..."

He stopped. She was staring at him. Her face was completely blank look.

Oh. No.

"Awww...Ny...what the...Didn't you tell me it was probably just an alien fascination? Didn't you tell me how stupid it was for you to risk your career? And it is stupid, by the way. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

He shook his head. "You're breaking the rules you signed up for when you signed up for Star Fleet."

"You're one to talk about rules!" She hissed, her brows coming together, hands going to her hips.

"Hey, I didn't sign anywhere on the dotted line to respect and obey the random whims of some foggy headed bureaucrat. No matter how dumb, once you sign the bottom line..."

"Shut up, Jabari," she said, her arms crossing her chest.

He would not shut up. "Seriously, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I like him. That he listens to me -- he doesn't fall asleep when I start talking about xenolinguistics, or phonology or..."

As soon as she said xenolinguistics Jabari dropped his head, closed his eyes and pretended to snore.

She punched him again. "...and we have fun together."

His eyes popped open. "If you have fun with a Vulcan you are sicker than I thought."

Her face actually softened for a moment. "Yeah, I have thought of that. He has this quiet sly sense of humor though..."

Jabari gave her a look of disbelief. Everyone, _everyone,_ knew Vulcans did not have a sense of humor. At last he said, "So you're risking your career for a guy you _like_."

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't just like him anymore. I don't know, something happened. It happened to him too."

"Love doesn't just happen, Ny. Its something that you _choose_ to let happen..."

She looked across the lawn. "Sometimes you reach a point where you have to let it happen, or you have to completely close the other person off...I did try...but it wasn't what I wanted..."

"And how do you know it happened to him? A guy will say a lot of things..." Jabari did not trust Mad Dog after the first episode.

"He doesn't say a lot of things." Her jaw tensed and she turned to look him directly in the eyes. "Not things like that anyway. He is very Vulcan in that respect. Through the empathic link I _know_...I _feel_ it."

Jabari did not know what to say. He did not trust her ability to judge the intentions of a mad dog Vulcan, telepathy-empathetic-link-mind-meld-shit or no...to know the intentions of someone who was by definition unstable was impossible.

Nyota said, "It isn't like last time...he didn't try to push me into anything I really wasn't quite ready for..."

"O.K., stop right there." Jabari held a hand up and took a deep breath. The last thing in the universe he wanted to know was _what_ his sister was ready for, with Mad Dog. Or any XY bearing being. Or XX bearing for that matter...well maybe XX bearing would be okay. If he were a woman he would...

"He's here," Nyota said, interrupting his thought.

"He's what?" Jabari asked.

"He's in Nairobi...he's staying at a hotel...I just met him at the transporter station this afternoon."

For a moment Jabari was happy she said Spock was at a hotel. He had momentarily been afraid she was going to say he was at their parents' house. But then he realized if Spock was at a hotel he had the opportunity to see Ny alone...and she had picked him up in the afternoon, and it was nearly _tomorrow_ now...

Don't. Go. There.

"Do Mom and Dad know?" He asked.

"Know what?"

"Anything? Everything? That their daughter is having an affair -- or whatever..." He really wanted to believe Vulcans didn't have sex before marriage. Of course, after her encounter with him in the spring...He swallowed. "...with an instructor, and superior officer. That he is here."

"Of course they don't know I'm _involved _with Spock. And I haven't told them he's here. I kind of invited him on a whim. I wanted to see him, and it slipped out. But then he took me up on my offer...It is just, so awkward. If I introduce him I have to introduce him just as my superior officer. And that...sucks..."

She looked out to the lawn again. For a moment the only sound was the chirp of insects.

At last she said, "You're the only one who knows."

"Doesn't that make me feel special." He sighed. The trouble was, it did make him feel special. Just a little bit.

A light from somewhere in the house went on and the yard became a little more illuminated. He heard the sound of his parents talking.

"So am I going to meet him?"

"No! You'll just spend the whole time trying to size him up and provoke him."

Well that did it. He was going to meet Mad Dog. He looked out at the lawn, left hand at his side, right hand fluttering at his hip looking for its usual perch.

He heard the door open. "Ny who are you talking to..." It was his mother's voice. Turning, Jabari saw her standing in the doorway in her robe. He smiled at her.

"Jabari!" She yelled coming forward to catch him in a big hug. She pulled back and her hands went up to touch his face. "Two years! Two years, Jabari!"

His father came out of the house, and put his arm on Ny's shoulders. "You could have told us you were coming," he said unsmiling.

"Kind of surprised to be here myself. Just had a little bit of business to attend to."

Neither of his parents commented. His father scowled.

"Anyway, I was just talking to Ny...it seems someone else has made a surprise visit to Nairobi."

He smiled at Ny, her eyes got wide and her jaw clenched.

"Her superior officer, you know, the one who she presented with and helped her get published..."

"...he only reviewed the translations," Nyota interrupted.

"...is here in town," Jabari finished.

Suddenly both of his parents turned to look at Nyota. "Lieutenant Spock is here?" his mother asked.

"Is he alone?" asked their father.

"Um...yes, and yes," stammered Nyota.

"And you didn't invite him to dinner?" His mother exclaimed. "Where are your manners? After all he has done for you!"

"Your mother is right, Nyota," his father said in his most patronizing voice. "It's rare to find a superior officer who gives you credit for your efforts the way Spock has. My superiors in my Academy days never let me present with them."

"How long is he staying?" His mother asked.

"Just two and a half days...I think..." Nyota responded, twirling her ponytail absently.

Jabari's arms crossed his chest. She did an impressive job pretending like she didn't care. The little sneak.

His mother asked, "Is he going to see the elephants? All Vulcans go to see the elephants..."

"Yes, at Amboseli, tomorrow...he asked if I'd like to go with him...but, I don't know....I haven't responded yet..."

"You will go with him," her father said. "Don't let him do anything stupid. For such a logical race Vulcans act like imbecile tourists around elephants. It's amazing none of them has never been gored or trampled."

Why...that little...

Jabari scowled. She had just gotten their father's permission to spend a whole day with her boyfriend. She wouldn't even have to lie when she slipped out tomorrow at the crack of dawn. If his mother didn't speak up she might be able to spend the entire day and evening with Spock...she'd say she had to take him to dinner, show him Nairobi after dark...

Nyota looked in his direction, raised an eyebrow and gave an almost imperceptible smile. Yep. Not that he didn't admire her deviousness...hopefully it didn't get her killed. Crazy Vulcan tourists and their elephants. Mentally he tried to think of ways he could get himself invited to that outing -- with an elephant sized tranquilizer gun. Sadly, it seemed impossible.

"Invite him here afterward for dinner," his mother said. Her tone told both her children that all protests would be futile. Jabari loved his mother.

"Will he go to the National Museum, too?" asked his mother. "The Vulcans always go there..."

Jabari's ears perked up. There was an outing he could attend if it occurred. He had business there.

"I'm not sure..." Nyota said.

Translation -- yes, and she was going too. Jabari winked at Nyota, just to let her know he was onto her game. She gave him a tired look and rolled her eyes.

The front door opened and Zuri, Jabari's youngest sister, appeared. "Jabari!" she squealed running to wrap her arms around him.

Jabari gave Nyota his biggest, widest, most brilliant grin over Zuri's head. Ny just glared at him.

Jabari had two personal goals for the rest of his trip. Spend as much time with Ny as possible in what little time he had, and keep an eye on Mad Dog.

Mad Dog was a Vulcan and an instructor involved with one of his students. No matter what redeeming qualities he might have, it was obvious from his behavior that he was unstable.


	45. Close Encounters of Three Kinds

=======================================================  
**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Close Encounters of Three Kinds**

The transport was on autopilot. Hoovering six feet off the ground, its motion, as it streaked across the African plains, was almost imperceptible to its occupants.

Spock trailed the fingers of his right hand through Nyota's hair. They were in the back of the transport, sitting on a seat that could accommodate two at once. Nyota's head lay in his lap. The fingers of his left hand rested on her temples and he absorbed her exhaustion.

They were both dressed for the outdoors. Hiking boots, khakis and t-shirts. He also wore a light jacket. At 23 C the December air was still chilly for him.

He was completely at peace. He had been at peace since he'd dropped his duffel bag in the hotel the night before and brought his fingers to her temples.

"You're not worried about having dinner with my family tonight?" she asked.

"It is illogical to worry." Truthfully, he was not worried. He had not foreseen the dinner, but his equilibrium had been reestablished. He felt curiosity, but he was not on edge.

If her parents asked him why he had come to Africa he could honestly answer that he had come to see the elephants on a suggestion from his mother. It was not something every Vulcan did when they came to Earth, but it was not exactly unusual. It was unusual for a Vulcan to visit the elephants without a secondary purpose, generally research of some sort. Vulcans did not partake in stimulation for stimulation's sake, nor was he really. He was partaking in this stimulation in order to spend time with Nyota...He would not need to divulge this to her parents, however.

"Jabari will be there," she said.

Through the link he felt...

_Concern...frustration..._and the peculiar affection and love like madness she always experienced when she spoke of her brother.

"You have mentioned that several times. But you have also said he will not give us away. I am unconcerned."

"But he will try to provoke you, Spock."

He was almost...almost...insulted. "Nyota, I am Vulcan." He had not given in to emotional provocations since he was a child.

"Well, if he provokes you, you are allowed to provoke back..."

At the front of the transport a tricorder started to beep.

"We have found them," he said.

Gently moving her he went forward and checked the read out. A small herd -- approximately twelve kilometers away. No transports or other sentient beings in readout range.

Coming forward to join him at the front of the vehicle, Nyota asked him, "So are you going to tell me why every Vulcan who comes to Kenya comes to visit the elephants?"

"Hopefully, I will be able to show you."

He slowed the transport and switched to manual control. Three kilometers away he started to feel them, but it was oddly not uncomfortable. He realized they were aware of him too.

When they are within 75 meters he brought the transport down to earth and to a halt.

The elephant herd was small -- six adult females, three adolescent males, and a very young female calf. Spock knew this without close observation or any mental exertion on his part -- they told him.

Picking up the tricorder he opened the hatch and hopped out of the transport into the cool air. He surveyed the surroundings. Although by Earth standards the plains were arid, on Vulcan the landscape would be considered positively lush. On his home planet this land would have been turned over to agriculture. With six billion inhabitants, land like this would not have been allowed to lie unused.

Of course, on Vulcan, there were no elephants.

"What are you doing, Spock."

"We are going to approach them Nyota."

"What? Are you nuts? These aren't cute and cuddly holo creatures, Spock. They will gore us to death or trample us....I thought you'd have more sense than a typical tourist."

Looking around he visually confirmed that except for the herd they were alone. He also double checked the tricorder and set it to sound an alarm if any transports approached. Slipping it into his jacket pocket he extended a hand to Nyota. "They will not hurt us Nyota, this group has not met any Vulcans yet, they are as curious as we are."

Nyota, did not look curious. She looked frightened. Looking at the extended hand she smiled though and raised an eyebrow. "Why Spock, the elephants will see."

She was joking, but he momentarily contemplated this statement. "Yes, and perhaps they will relate this encounter to other Vulcans...but they will not be able to convey our identities in a way that would be understandable. "

She stared at him, then took his hand and stepped out of the transport. They were weakly linked now. He felt a flash of fear...but trust as well...he did his best to transmit calm.

The elephants had all turned to face them as they exited the craft -- except for the adolescents and the calf. The attention of the young ones wavered between the bipeds approaching, and each other.

The closer they got, the more the elephants thoughts and feelings slipped into his mind. But it was not disturbing. The feelings of the elephants were so _alien_ that although recognizable they were still abstract, and the thoughts were often incomplete because they were simply not quite translatable. They thought in sounds beyond the frequency range of humans or Vulcans, and they identified each other by smell, not by name.

He blocked them ever so slightly, he could not let them overwhelm him while he navigated Nyota and himself across the rough terrain.

They found him fascinating and Nyota too. Because she was with him they did not find her...irritating...that caused him to raise an eyebrow. They found humans irritatingly incomprehensible in their lack of telepathy.

They were now about fifty feet away from the elephants. Nyota was getting more and more frightened, he didn't need the link to tell him this.

"Spock...Spock...are you sure about this?"

"A moment, Nyota. Do not worry."

"I guess the fact that we aren't dead and none of them is charging is proof of that...."

He kept up his stride, pulling her slightly until they were only twenty feet away. They flapped their ears and rumbled -- in greeting he realized. Nyota started to quake.

"It is alright, Nyota. They are in telepathic contact with me. It is most fascinating."

This did not provoke the Pavlovian Vulcan Giggle Response.

"They do not wish to hurt us," he added.

He heard her swallow audibly. Her hand felt cold and damp in his own.

Because they were not mentally bonded he would need a physical link, one that was stronger than just through the finger tips. And she would not be able to hear their thoughts, only their emotions...but, although naturally telepathic, elephants would not be designing warp drives or playing chess any time soon; their thoughts mostly were emotions.

He dropped her hand and pulled her body around so her back was to his chest.

"Hey, no fair. You're going to let them trample me first." She said still shaking.

"Nyota, do not be afraid. I will re-establish the link now."

He brought both of his hands to either side of her temples dropped all his mental blocks.

Nyota gasped at the alien sensations. "What is that?"

"It is the elephants," he replied.

From the elephants he and Nyota both found themselves flooded with...

_Curiosity, _and yes, _fascination _of a kind that was apparently both elephant and Vulcan.

"Fascinating." It came automatically to his lips.

The elephants came forward and circled around them. One extremely curious calf reached out a trunk to touch Nyota's nose.

Nyota laughed and laughed.

x x x x

"Well, did you..." He looked down at her. Her head was resting on his lap again, her eyes looking straight up at him. They were back in the transport. Spock's hand was on Nyota's temple once more.

"It was amazing, Spock. They thought so too! We were so...interesting to them."

It was true, this group had not met a Vulcan before -- and by extension no human they found tolerable. They had only heard of the curious bipeds who were capable of communication. They had not touched Spock, they knew he would be uncomfortable with contact. Nyota however had been more than happy to stroke trunks, and they had found the touch of tiny fingers pleasant and unique. The tiniest calf took a liking to her and had tugged at her wrist to entreat her to come play -- which had caused Nyota to cry for reasons he didn't quite comprehend.

They had understood he came from the stars, but the concept was too abstract for them. This hadn't interested them as much as the fact that Nyota and he were together. They found a male female relationship quite fascinating. Elephant herds were composed of adult females and their young. The bonds between females were as resilient and deep as any Vulcan friendship. Males, on the other hand, lived solitary existences outside the herd.

Through the link he felt...

_Wonder..._

"Was it..." He tilted his head remembering his mother's description, "Romantic?"

"Yes." She smiled broadly, "It was very, very, _very _romantic. Even though we smell a bit like pachyderm now."

He lifted an eyebrow, that was true.

From her he felt...

_Happiness..._

"So your father introduced your mother to elephants this way?" Nyota asked him.

"Well, yes...but it would have been different for them. They had undergone a mind meld when they were bonded...they would not have needed physical contact to be linked. Also, my father would have been able to relay the thoughts of the elephants, not just their emotions."

She was..._curious..._

"I would like to see the thoughts of the elephants," she said with a smile.

He nodded once and admitted, "They were interesting..." Seeing the thoughts of an elephant had been like reading a description of an alien world in a book, it had been an intellectual exercise. Intriguing. Not emotionally exhausting like getting ones hand snatched up in an unwanted Terran handshake.

"What is a mind meld, exactly Spock? Was it like your link to the elephants? You didn't have to touch them."

"Elephant Vulcan telepathy is almost unique. There is very little effort on the part of the elephants or the Vulcans. But, despite the ease of contact, and the similarities in certain key emotions..."

"Fascination!" she giggled.

"...Indeed...elephants are so different the bond is not strong. There is still a great deal of mental distance between the participants. A mind meld between Vulcans, or human and Vulcans I imagine, is a very different matter."

He stroked her temples softly, trying to formulate the correct words for something indescribable. "It is a deeper form of telepathic contact. It can be many things...It allows both participants to completely share in thoughts, feelings, and experiences. It can be permanent. It does not have the same limitations of distance."

"You don't think the empathic link is...permanent...in a way?"

It was a strange question. "No, it is not...why do you ask that, Nyota?"

She shrugged, "I've just wondered if it might be..."

He tilted his head; a mind meld was so much more than the simple emotional link they engaged in. "If we undergo a mind meld, I will be able to always reach you, and you me. We will not have to touch to know each others' feelings...or thoughts."

"No limitations of distance, all thoughts and experiences are shared? That sounds like it could be really great...or really scary..."

"Scary? It can be dangerous, but if done correctly, it is not frightening," he said. "It is an integral part of the bonding ceremony."

"Bonding ceremony?" she asked.

"Before marriage we are bound to our future spouses. Later in life, when it is required, we seek out our bond mates and undergo the marriage ceremony."

Across the link came a wave of _apprehension..._

"You said it 'is not frightening', have you been bonded?"

He immediately could understand her apprehension. He sent her a wave of calm through the link.

"I was bound, Nyota. But the bond was dissolved when I was twenty-one. It was not...required..."

From her came _relief..._and _confusion..._

"Was that a good thing or a bad thing for you?"

"My intended and I were uniquely unsuited. When the bond was dissolved neither of us was dissatisfied." He decided not to go into T'Prings aversion to his human heritage. Nor did he mention how grateful he was to have escaped the emotional upheavals of Pon Farr.

She looked at him quizzically. "You're not telling me something," she said, reaching up and tapping his temple.

He raised his eyebrows. Had she gotten that from their link somehow?

She tilted her head slightly and continued on a new train of thought. "So with a mind meld...you see everything...all the time? If you had to listen in while Gaila and I spent an hour choosing finger nail polish I can imagine it would be very tedious."

"Yes," he tilted his head, "I believe that would be."

She laughed at his honesty and his fingers buzzed happily.

"We would learn how to block each other, but we would always be available to one another. No matter how far apart," Spock said.

"So it would be like...an always open subspace channel to your soul?"

He blinked. He had never heard a Vulcan describe a mind meld in such a descriptive, evocative way. He transmitted his feelings of wonder and happiness and replied, "Yes, I suppose that is an imaginative, yet essentially accurate, description."

"We would need it if we were apart, wouldn't we?"

She said it, not him.

Across the link he felt...

_Apprehension..._

Had she felt the inadequacy of his inability to renew their bond verbally while they were separated? Had she experienced the worry he had felt?

"I believe, it would be beneficial." He swallowed. Then whispered, "Perhaps it would even be required."

"Do you want to do it?" she asked softly, stroking his temple with one hand.

"Yes," he admitted, leaning down and kissing her lips.

She nodded. "Then why don't we mind meld right now?"

He instantly felt both longing and fear. "Because it is dangerous, my Nyota. I am young, and inexperienced. I have only done a mind meld once. You are also human, your physiological differences might pose a problem.

I think it is wise to have our_ first_ mind meld presided over by an elder Vulcan, one skilled in healing, in an official bonding ceremony. That way, if something went wrong, you would not suffer lasting injury."

As soon as he said, lasting injury, he felt a rush of...

_Fear..._

For a moment it overwhelmed him. To think of the light behind her eyes going out, the laughter disappearing from his finger tips. And to think of loosing her now to the words he had just spoken.

He felt a tide of panic rise in him, along with fear. The negative emotions slipped across the link to her. Both of their bodies went stiff, he felt himself go physically cold. He stopped breathing.

From her he felt an echo of his own feelings and he realized with a start they were caught in a fear feedback loop.

The realization seemed to hit them both at once. Spock withdrew his fingers and Nyota sat up with a start, gasping, hands going to her face.

His heart was racing in his ears. He heard her heart beat and realized it was elevated as well. Slowly she turned her body so they were now side by side on the seat. They both sat not looking at one another for a few minutes. The afternoon skyline of Nairobi was just coming into view.

He looked down at his in his now empty lap, feeling like he may have ruined the whole day.

They spoke minimally the rest of the way back to his hotel room. He needed to change. They both needed to shower.

When they entered his room she took off her clothes. "They need to go in a sonic cleaner," she said. "My father specifically told me to keep you away from the elephants. If I go home smelling like a pachyderm he'll kill us both."

He tried to use humor to bring her back to him. "A slight hyperbole, perhaps?"

For the first time since the fear feedback loop she smiled. "Maybe...slightly."

"Give me your clothes Nyota, and step into the shower. I will take them to the front desk to be cleaned."

When he got back twenty minutes later she was standing in a hotel robe, water droplets sparkling in her hair, hands tucked in the robe's deep pockets.

"So to be bonded, is sort of like, becoming engaged...but with a mind meld, not a ring?"

"I suppose that is the closest human analogy."

She traced a circle with her toe on the carpet. He couldn't discern what she was thinking or feeling. They were not linked, and had not linked since the episode earlier.

"You know," she said, "You asked me to bond with you while I was tired, dirty, and smelled like an elephant."

She was smiling. That was a start. He put her now clean clothes on the bed. He was about to put his hands behind his back when she came forward and took his left hand. She put it on her temple.

He felt a rush of...

_Happiness..._but...

_Apprehension_...as well...

He tilted his head.

"I have a lot of questions...I may even have to make a list," she said...and his fingers buzzed slightly with humor. "But it worked for your parents...and I would really like to know what the elephants are _thinking_ one day." The buzz got stronger.

This was decidedly more optimistic. Who knew elephants could be so motivational?

"We would not be able to get official sanction of the bond until after you graduate..." He brought his other hand up to brush her cheek. "We have time."

Through the link he felt...

_Relief..._

He put his forehead to hers. _"Until then I already consider us unofficially bonded."_ The words came out in Vulcan...and that peculiar emotion that was possessiveness, lust, and protectiveness came with them.

_"You are already mine." _He said.

Across the link from her he felt the usual reaction to his Vulcan emotion...

_Love...desire..._

"Spock, I think you are rebooting my brain."

It was an odd set of words to be said with her current emotions Spock thought...or half thought. He was rather distracted at that moment. Most of the part of him that was thinking was pondering the logistics of multitasking certain activities with the necessity of taking a shower.

x x x x x

"Loved meeting the elephants, Spock," Nyota said later as they climbed into the transport. She was driving this time; they were on their way to her parents' house.

"Can we try it with lions next?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow and replied. "Only if you wish to be eaten."

She sighed. "Well, if its that or introducing you to my brother..."


	46. The Lions' Den

**===============================================================  
DISCLAIMER: It isn't mine.**

**The Lion's Den  
**  
"Why do you have a problem with that, Spock?" Jabari asked from across the booth in the crowded...was it a pub, bar, restaurant? Spock wasn't quite sure how to classify the establishment known as the Nebula. It was an equal mix of off worlders and humans of every shade.

It was the night after he met her family. _That_ dinner had gone smoothly...

Jabari wasn't what Spock had expected. For some highly illogical reason he had pictured, well, a Ferengi. Jewelry, shiny ostentatious clothing, short...

This particular evening Jabari was wearing a black button down shirt, gray pants and neat black shoes. Actually, except for the fact that Spock was wearing a black sweater instead of a button down shirt, and Jabari wore an inconspicuous ring on the smallest finger of his left hand, they were dressed nearly identically.

Nearly three centimeters taller than Spock Jabari clearly surpassed Ferengi height too. Spock tilted his head. The resemblance to Nyota was readily apparent. Same eyes and nose – just slightly darker skin. Spock looked to Nyota at his side for a moment, then across the table to Jabari. Her brother had a slightly wider mouth, and of course broader chin and forehead as well.

A group of six Orions, four males, two females walked by their table. They looked surprised when they saws Jabari.

Spock heard whispers in Orion so accented it was barely recognizable,_ "Is that the Romulan with him?"_

_"I thought the Romulan was..."_

Spock, Jabari, and Nyota all turned to look at the green men and women as they made their way into the back room. The Orions noticed and hushed immediately.

Romulan? _The_ Romulan? Did Romulans even come to Earth...much less obscure Earth dining establishments?

"Wow," said Nyota, "That is an incredible dialect. I've never heard it before. And did they just call Spock a Romulan? He doesn't even look like a Romulan..."

Nyota and Spock both turned and looked at Jabari.

"Ummm...Romulans don't come to Earth unless they are part of official delegations. That would be highly irregular, not to mention illegal." Jabari stammered. Then his voice got smooth, "Maybe, they just can't quite imagine a Vulcan being here, so they assume Spock -- despite his obviously Vulcan appearance and demeanor, is a Romulan."

Looking around Spock noticed Vulcans certainly didn't seem to come to this establishment.

"It's true, I've never seen a Vulcan at the Nebula..." said Nyota. "I wonder where that dialect came from. It was incredible..."

Their path to the Nebula had been circuitous.

Yesterday evenings' dinner hadn't been too uncomfortable -- for Spock at least. He had treated it like a professional engagement. The only difference was that after the first introductions he had called, 'Nyota' by her first name, and she had called him 'Spock'.

The meal was quite good, vegetarian, and there had been no finger food in sight. Nyota's parents were gracious, to him at least. He talked with her father about the latest developments in engineering and Star Fleet, and her mother about her experience in the Diplomatic Corps.

Ms. Uhura seemed to pick up on his disinclination to talk about his father's experiences as an Ambassador and discreetly avoided the topic after a few quick queries. Zuri had been quite eager to practice her Vulcan on him.

When he wasn't talking to Spock, Nyota's father had glared at Jabari across the table. Jabari, for his part, had spent most of the evening staring intently at Spock. Nyota had glared at Jabari when she wasn't talking to her mother, Spock and Zuri.

Jabari did ask Spock a few times if he had had enough to eat. Spock wasn't sure if it had been a provocation...but surely Jabari wouldn't know...If Jabari had attempted other provocations Spock did not notice it.

When Ms. Uhura had asked him his plans for the rest of the trip, he had mentioned the Nairobi National Museum. It was one of the few places in Kenya dedicated to the preservation of African culture, and a place every Vulcan went when they came to Africa.

As soon as he said it Jabari jumped in, "Well, Spock, I'll go with you. I have some business there, and I know a lot about traditional African Art...Hey, Ny...you want to come too?" He had smiled at Nyota.

"Jabari, Spock wants nothing to do with your business." Nyota's father stuttered.

Ms. Uhura shook her head and brought her napkin to her mouth.

Spock was confused...of course he planned to go to the museum with Nyota, perhaps she hadn't told her parents? He looked to her. She looked hard at Jabari, "That sounds great, big brother. I expect we'll get the whole tour?"

"Of course," Jabari had responded with a wide smile.

It turned out that having Jabari at the museum was quite helpful. He seemed to know everything about every artifact and piece of artwork. He was apparently well known there. After the museum had closed a curator had come down and taken the three of them to view a collection of artwork that was not on public display. The curator had given detailed descriptions of all the pieces and it had been quite fascinating.

And then Spock realized why they were getting the "whole tour".

The museum was selling rare pieces of African art to Jabari, who was then selling them to Ferengi collectors off planet. On the one hand, Spock hadn't known that any portion of Jabari's activities were legitimate...On the other hand, on Vulcan artwork such as the kind Jabari was trading would belong to the public collectively. They would never have been sold to off worlders for base monetary gain.

He and Jabari began discussing this topic when Nyota had declared that she was hungry. Jabari suggested the Nebula as the most likely place to get great food and avoid running into anyone from Star Fleet -- they hadn't received their food yet, but there was definitely no one from Star Fleet here.

"Well, Spock?" asked Jabari, snapping Spock out of his reverie.

"I do not accept that selling this artwork is the only way to raise funds to finance the building of a new wing. But on the assumption that it is, put the museum in contact with the collectors you sell to. Let them take the two hundred percent markup you claim you will make on the resale."

"Hey, two hundred percent markup is high in relative terms, but in absolute terms, it's nothing. If it was my main business I'd never make any _real_ credits that way. I just do it as a side line gig, as a favor...almost..."

"Ugh...I've heard this conversation about a million times before," grumbled Nyota.

"I fail to see how it is a favor," Spock replied.

"The museum needs credits. The Ferengi have credits. The museum doesn't want to be seen associating with Ferengi collectors...I provide a valuable service...if the museum looses out on the mark up...well, _everyone_ pays for their illogical choices sooner or later."

Was it his imagination, or had Jabari placed a little too much emphasis on the last sentence? There had been no direct references to his and Nyota's relationship this day or the day before. Spock decided not to read too much into it. It could have been an innocent turn of phrase. To take offense where none was intended was illogical.

"Hey, was that a dig, Jabari?" Nyota asked.

"What? What dig? We're talking about the museums unwillingness to associate with Ferengi's for fear of spoiling their pristine reputations." Jabari shot back.

"Yeah, instead they associate with you. How long will that keep up if they find out what your main stock and trade is?" asked Nyota.

"How do you know they don't already know?" shot back Jabari.

"Ferengi collectors will put these artifacts into their own private collections, where the public will never get to access them," said Spock sticking to the previous conversation.

"They aren't on display, so they might as well be in a private collection now," replied Jabari.

"Okay, while you guys discuss this monumental issue I'm going to go powder my nose." Nyota said getting out of the booth. "The food here is the best in the universe, but the service is so slow," she added.

Both Jabari and Spock turned and looked up at Nyota. They both nodded. She smiled at them and shook her head. Then they turned back and looked at each other.

Jabari was leaning across the table on his elbows. Spock was sitting up straight up, arms at his side.

Spock said slowly, "You allow valuable pieces of Africa's cultural heritage to be sold to the highest bidder." It was actually difficult to articulate these words, it was such a repellent idea to a Vulcan.

"Apparently, the keepers of my cultural heritage at the National Museum, do not see the pieces they sell me as being all that valuable. They value a new wing more. Who am I to question the experts?"

"A citizen of the Federation and a resident of the United States of Africa who is concerned by the devaluation of his cultural heritage," Spock replied.

"Actually, by selling my cultural heritage to private Ferreghi collectors off world I decrease the amount of art work in circulation. You'd be amazed, the Ferengi never resell...they'd rather starve than give up their ostentatious trappings of wealth -- complete foolishness. Even I wouldn't get that attached to an intimate object. No matter how rare or beautiful..." He stopped a moment, looked at his hands and sighed. Then he continued, "This creates a situation of scarcity. Scarcity increases the value of my heritage. This means that in the future even less of my cultural heritage will need to be sold for funding purposes."

Holding up a drink the waitress called the 'usual Jabari screwdriver', Jabari clinked his ice, and finished the orange liquid in a single long sip. "It's very logical, Spock," he added. Then held up his hand for the waitress and pointed at his glass.

"If the only value of your heritage is monetary."

"To appreciate the aesthetic value of my heritage it needs to be seen. It cannot be seen without a new wing. A new wing needs funding." Jabari shot back.

"There must be other ways to receive funding. Surely, if a request was made to the Federation..."

"The Federation is too busy financing our war with the Klingons..." snapped Jabari. Then he added, "Ordinarily, I'm all for the Federation financing wars and not much else. One of the few things government should be in charge with is financing the common defense. But lately it seems we've been provoking the Klingons as much as they have been provoking us. It has made my main line of business much more profitable...but it is...wasteful....and dangerous." He scratched the scar on the side of his head.

Spock sat up straighter, "We are not at war with the Klingons."

"Yeah, well good. Because if the state we're in with them is peace I'd hate to see the war." Jabari said.

"Nor do Federation vessels provoke. I realize there have been...misunderstandings..." Spock replied.

"I don't typically blow people up when I have a misunderstanding. Not most days, anyways."

Spock stared at Jabari. He was putting up with his company for Nyota's sake. He didn't want to miss any time he could possibly spend with her on this short visit. He also wanted to ensure Nyota's safety. He wasn't sure Jabari was entirely stable -- judging by his primary occupation and by the company he kept. He looked around at the patrons at the Nebula with unease.

...Although...other than asking him if he wanted more to eat the previous night at dinner, and inviting himself to the National Museum, Spock hadn't noticed any overt attempts at provocation. He didn't believe this conversation counted. They were having an intellectual discussion, even if aspects of the subject were...distasteful.

"And the Federation is provoking the Klingons. It seems like once a month or so a Klingon freighter goes missing in the neutral zone...and then some Federation freighter goes missing..." Jabari added.

"I have not heard of this," said Spock.

"Okay, I concede the point...maybe 'Klingon freighter' and 'Federation freighter' isn't exactly the correct description of the ships we're talking about..."

"Perhaps you'd like to give the correct description?" Spock asked.

"Usually the ships that go missing are...independent vessels....manned by Klingons...or manned by humans..." Jabari said.

"Independent vessels, like yours?"

Jabari stared at him for a moment, then continued, "...anyway, a lot of independent vessels have been going missing lately...and despite the fact the ships aren't entirely legitimate -- unlike me, I'm registered under Ferengi law -- don't raise your eyebrow like that, the Ferenghi do have laws."

Spock dropped his eyebrow. He was dubious about Ferengi law...but he was more curious about disappearing star ships, independent pirates or not...

Jabari continued, "The Federation and the Klingons Empire get antsy when an independent vessel manned by their own kind disappears. Legitimate or not."

"Why is the assumption that these disappearances are the doing of the Klingons or the Federation?"

Jabari blinked. "Because some of the ships that have disappeared are too big to be taken down by other independent vessels...or at least, if they were taken down by independents there would be wreckage. And gossip. Whoever is taking them down isn't talking.

"These ships are often well armed. It would take a coalition of pirates or a Federation Star Fleet or Klingon Warbird to take them out completely...There is no coalition of pirates that is organized enough -- or disciplined enough not to brag. Pirates tend to be somewhat anarchistic."

Spock looked hard at Jabari.

"I'm not a pirate, Spock, or an anarchist...I believe in the Federation." Jabari's back straightened as he said this, "I am a capitalist and a discoverer and conservator of rare objects -- some of which are illegal to sell under rather unenlightened Federation law."

"We are not discussing the merits of Federation law at this time..." Spock replied. Human attention wandered so easily.

"But we will, Spock."

"...Returning to the topic at hand, it could be a third party that is responsible for the disappearing ships."

"But what third party? Surely if it were Romulans Star Fleet intelligence would know...I mean, a concerted effort by the Romulan empire...Spock, please tell me Star Fleet intelligence would know..."

"Star Fleet intelligence would probably know if there was a concerted disruptive effort perpetrated by the Romulan Empire in or around the neutral zone -- unless Romulan technology and intelligence has advanced exponentially in the past twenty years..."

"Which could be possible," muttered Jabari, "Though it seems unlikely."

"Agreed. It could be, as the old saying goes, an unknown unknown, however."

"Yes. That is what I've been afraid of lately." Jabari replied.

They sat in silence for three minutes and thirty five seconds.

"I wonder where the food is," said Jabari.

Spock was more concerned with something else. "Where is Nyota?"

"Relax, she can handle herself as long as she isn't drinking...or under the influence. Once, when we were little, I got in a fight with this big Andorian kid and she cracked him over the head with a_ gulak_ bottle...not that it did any real damage. She is so small..."

Jabari stopped. "Unless she's under the influence..." He murmured and scowled. Then he looked towards the back room. "_Kl'sass'ien _Orions..."


	47. Mad Dogs and Romulans Part I

**===============================================================  
DISCLAIMER: It isn't mine.**

**UPDATE: At the advice of Janyl I went ahead and made the last part of the Chapter 46 the first part of this chapter. If you already read the first part of the confrontation with Orions Skip down to the first set of XXXXs.**

**Mad Dogs & Romulans Part I  
**  
Without looking back at Spock Jabari was on his feet and heading for an entrance way shrouded by a curtain of beads. Spock followed a few steps behind.

Crashing through the beads, they entered a dimly lit hallway with several doors along both sides. There was light smoke drifting in the air, and a smell that reminded Spock of incense. He took a deep breath automatically.

Jabari turned and looked at him, his face was very serious. "_Hija_ smoke...try to breathe normally. Orions smoke _hija _because in most sentient beings it creates an urge to breathe in deeply -- it will cause you to suck in more pheremones."

"I am immune to Orion pheromones," Spock replied.

"God, you are a lucky man...lets follow the smoke and..."

From the last door on the left they heard Nyota's voice, _"I love your dialect, I've never heard it before...I am so glad we met...Wow, that feels amazing...."_

Jabari was two steps ahead of Spock again. He entered the doorway and without even looking back at Spock said, "Pool cues on the back wall. Get us two."

It took a hundredth of a second for Spock to take in the scene before him. There were seven Orions in the room. The six he'd seen earlier and one new woman.

Two Orion females sat at a booth with two Orion males. Nyota, _his Nyota, _was standing with her side to Spock and Jabari at the end of the pool table in the middle of the room. She was talking intently to an Orion female, the one he had not seen before. Nyota's eyes looked slightly glazed even from across the room, in her hand she held an empty glass. Behind her was an Orion male, his side also to Jabari...he was gently massaging _his Nyota's _shoulders. A second Orion male was standing behind the three of them, focusing intently on portions of Nyota's anatomy below her neck.

One benefit of being a Vulcan was that when a request was made, no matter how one felt about the person making the request, one could respond logically to the merits of the request. Without pride or narcissism of any sort Spock analyzed the situation and decided a pool cue would indeed be a nice thing to have to break across the heads of two Orion males. The pieces could then be used to pummel the rest of the lot.

Fighting back the urge to growl, Spock turned, picked up two pool cues and set one upright next to Jabari's hand. Jabari's eyes were riveted to Nyota. Without looking, Jabari took the cue, and flipped it to his other hand. He held out the hand closest to Spock in a universal gesture of, 'don't move'.

Before he could protest, or push past, Jabari's voice boomed out, "Hey gang, I'm afraid I never got a chance to properly introduce you to my _little sister._" Drawing out the last two words Jabari finished with a wide smile that displayed every single one of his teeth. Even a Vulcan could see the smile was predatory.

Whether from the smile, or the words, the Orions drew back immediately, as though Nyota might have had the capacity to sting them. Spock was impressed by Jabari's effectiveness. Although, it was somewhat unsatisfactory that violence would no longer be called for. He clenched his teeth.

"Jabari," said the female Orion looking genuinely pleased. "The Klingons didn't kill you! Is that your Romulan engineer we've heard so much about?"

Spock was too angry to contemplate these words. He was furious, though not at Nyota. He was furious at the Orions for intoxicating her. And he was furious at himself for not noticing the length of her absence earlier. And of course he was furious at Jabari for bringing them here. He took a deep breath and fought back the urge to move forward, they no longer were_ touching_ her. Violence now was uncalled for. The immediate danger had passed. But she was still too far away...

Jabari did not acknowledge the greeting. He looked at Nyota and said, "Ny, come here."

Nyota, smiled at the Orion female. "That is my big brother, I didn't know you knew him Cessnia..." She turned and smiled at Spock and Jabari and said in a slurred voice. "Jabari, Spock, they have the most in-incredible dialect. Apparently they come from a planet just two light years from Orion Prime, but it has been separated for one hundred years. I don't think this dialect has ever been stu-stu-died before."

"She's your little sister, Jabari? No wonder I find her so delicious," Cessnia purred.

**x x x x x**

It had been a while since Jabari had used his Vulcan skills. But he understood the words Spock said next.

_"Nyota, come here. Now."_

Spock's face had gone from serene to stern stone...except for a minuscule flare to his nostrils. He didn't clench the pool cue in his hands Jabari noted, he held it lightly. He realized Spock would be ready to switch his hand positions quickly. He was ready to swing it at a moments notice, or thrust, or parry, or just bludgeon. Jabari had been in enough fights to realize the guy had skills.

"And that," said Nyota, moving away from the Orion woman in Spock's direction, "Is _My Spock._" She said it with a dreamy smile and slipped around the table towards the Vulcan.

Great. She listened to a Vulcan, but not her brother.

Did Spock just whisper_ 'Mine'_ in his native language?

The past day and a half Jabari had been trying to catch a sign that there was something between Spock and Ny and seen -- nothing.

Of course, spacers had rumors that the typical Vulcan gentle demeanor was just a facade. Still. No touching. No emotion. No humor. Ny and Spock just seemed so professional and cool at the museum and at dinner.

He had almost convinced himself that there _was _nothing between the two. And he had liked it better that way. It made it easier not to try and provoke Spock -- he hadn't even once called him Mad Dog. He'd even enjoyed their debate earlier, although Spock's views were annoyingly mainstream.

His sister and the Vulcan did not look cool and professional now. Nyota stood in front of Spock gazing dreamily up into the Vulcan's eyes, her hands behind her back. Spock wasn't touching her, but he was looking down at her with such intensity spontaneous combustion seemed possible.

These thoughts all passed through his mind in a heartbeat.

Cessnia, moved around the table towards Jabari, "That wasn't Romulan, that was Vulcan! Jabari, have you picked up a mad dog and a Romulan too...or is it just him?"

Jabari held out his pool cue and pressed the point just above the Orion woman's navel. "Back up Cessnia."

Cessnia smiled sweetly at him and he felt himself go warm. She was so beautiful...Dark hair. Green skin. A wide sensuous mouth. She wore a simple flight jacket and pants, but they were well fitted. The jacket was open nearly to her navel and there appeared to be nothing underneath. Really, why not partake in the pleasures she so consistently offered? Orion's weren't interested in long term relationships and...

Curse _hija_ smoke and pheromones...She had just tried to seduce his little sister...and although Cessnia wasn't a slaver, her friends...He shoved her with the cue stick and tilted his head disapprovingly.

Suddenly both Spock and Nyota spoke at once. "Romulan?"

All eyes were on Jabari.

"There is no Romulan then? Just Mad Dog, here?" Cessnia asked, pointing at Spock.

"Spock is not a maaad dog," slurred Nyota.

Jabari ignored all of their questions. "What did you give her to drink, Cessnia?"

"Just some Andorian brandy." Cessnia shrugged.

Jabari sighed. Just one would be enough to send Ny, even with her amazing tolerance for alcohol, around the bend. And Ny had undoubtedly chugged it in a single swallow...on an empty stomach. How had they gotten her to drink it in the first place? She wasn't that naive...

The smoke...just _hija_?

"We'll be leaving now, Cessnia," Jabari said.

"You always leave too soon, Jabari," Cessnia replied, trying to inch closer.

"You always try to stand too close, Cessnia," Jabari replied pushing her forcibly back with the pool cue.

"I suppose you _would_ get along better with a Vulcan than a Romulan," Cessnia said. And then she uttered in Orion one of the lowest most demeaning phrase of her culture, _"Just a couple of prudes."_

What Nyota said next would never happen with just Andorian brandy, or just Orion pheromones, or even just Orion pheromones augmented by _hjia_ smoke. But with the combination of all three and perhaps a mystery element...

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, hands behind her back, wide smile on her face -- the same demeanor she'd had when she'd bragged to Jabari about winning the spelling bee when she was 5, Ny said in slightly slurred Orion prime, _"Spock is not a prude. The sex is reeaally hot..."_ Then she winked at the Orion woman suggestively and whispered,_ "He's actually kind of kinky."  
_  
Cessnia blinked. Nyota looked back at Spock and licked her lips. Spock went completely green. And Jabari fought back the urge to crack the pool cue over Spock's head.

"Let's go, Ny...Mad Dog..." Jabari said feeling his lip curl up in a snarl. "Maybe our food has arrived."


	48. Mad Dogs

**  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Trek or Nyota or Spock**

**Mad Dogs  
**  
**x x x x x x x**

Jabari was too angry to look back at the couple behind him as he made his way into the main room. He didn't know who he wanted to strangle more...Spock or Ny -- you could love someone and still want to strangle them, especially if that someone was family.

He stopped to give a curt word to Benjamin, the bartender and proprietor. "You've got some amorous Orion's smoking _hija_ in the back. You might want to open the windows and the vents."

Benjamin's jaw dropped. "We're on it... I am so sorry if we've caused you any trouble. Your meals are on us tonight, Jabari." And then the man was off, signaling to some of the servers. Having one's customers drugged and carted off to universe knew where was very bad for business.

"Perhaps we should leave?" suggested Spock.

"Nyota and I need to sit down. Now." Jabari slid into their booth, Nyota followed suit across from him and after a moments hesitation Spock sat down next to her.

Jabari felt a little light headed and put his head in his hands. He took a deep breath. Something more than _hjia_ had definitely been in the smoke.

Suddenly briefly articulate, Ny said, "Why didn't you tell me about that dialect, Jabari? It was sooooo unique...There's a graduate level thesissis in that room..."

Spock and Jabari both looked at her. Her eyes were wide and completely innocent. "What?"

"Drink this," Jabari said passing her a 'special Jabari screwdriver'.

Spock intercepted the glass. "Should she really be imbibing at this time?"

Jabari scowled at the Vulcan. Spock tilted his head and stared directly into Jabari's eyes. There was no expression on his face, but Jabari knew a challenge when he saw one.

Nyota plucked the glass from around Spock's hand and slurred, "S'okay, its just orange juice. He likes people to think he's drinking...But he doesn't...'Cause he's a control freak."

Spock's head straightened. Jabari still scowled though. Nyota sipped the drink through the straw and laughed. "You're both so cute and serious."

Both Spock and Jabari turned and looked at her.

Suddenly, food started arriving at the table. Much more than they had ordered. Benjamin was apparently trying to make amends for not taking better care of his patrons. "Mmmmm....yummy..." said Nyota.

Just as Nyota started tearing into a piece of steaming Naan bread seven Orion's marched out of the back room shooting Jabari dirty looks. Jabari gave them a friendly wave.

A few moments later Benjamin appeared at his side, "The situation has been taken care of, sir. So you know, it appears they may have been smoking some _xeli _leaf with the _hija_...thank you again for alerting us. We try to protect our patrons here, no one from that particular party will be eating here again."

Benjamin looked down for a moment, then said in a hushed voice, "If I may, I'd like to mention something to some of my associates, we don't need this kind of trouble in this system."

"And then Cessnia will just want to kill me not just fuck me," mumbled Jabari.

"You said the f-word!" said Nyota laughing.

Jabari looked at his sister, if he and Spock hadn't arrived...

"Go ahead, they aren't exactly friends of mine anyways." Jabari replied.

"Thank you. They won't be bothering you or your friends again." Benjamin nodded once and walked off.

Well, not in _this _system...

He turned to Spock, "The _xeli_ leaf is an dis-inhibitor, she wouldn't have accepted the drink under normal circumstances. My sister isn't stupid."

"Hell no!" said Nyota.

"...she'll be okay, but it's definitely still in her system...along with the brandy." Jabari added.

Spock took a deep breath, tilted his head, and looked at Nyota. "That would explain a great many things."

Jabari sighed, and tried to collect his thoughts. He'd managed to seriously tick off one of his competitors -- for good reason, but still..and the rest of the evening he was going to spend with his semi-coherent sister and her mad dog Vulcan boyfriend...who was now fixing him with a completely unreadable stare from across the table.

The Vulcan boyfriend in question looked completely calm. There wasn't the faintest tint of green anywhere on his features.

Jabari approved of a guy who didn't whinge. And it was good he hadn't decided to just slink away. On the other hand he was pretty sure that the words 'kinky' and 'hot sex' were at this point indelibly etched into his brain right next to an image of Spock and his little sister sitting across the booth from him so...innocently.

He took a deep breath. Just don't think about it. Did he think about what his parents did in bed? No. But his mother didn't talk about having hot sex with his father. Most definitely no. Put it out of your brain, Jabari. Right now.

It was true, Jabari thought that getting involved with an instructor was a dumb idea...and the same held true for an instructor getting involved with a student. On the other hand, it was obvious that Spock cared for his little sister -- if this little incident hadn't happened, maybe he would not have gotten the chance to see that.

What had his mother said to his father when Jabari had decided not to go into the Diplomatic Corp or Star Fleet? "Sometimes you have to let them lead their own lives." She was talking of children. But couldn't the same be said for little sisters?

Even if they got caught, being involved with Spock wouldn't kill Ny...which is more than could be said for some of the decisions Jabari had made.

Jabari looked back to Spock. Was his face always so blank, or just in public?

There was an awkward silence where the only sound was Nyota eating. Neither he nor Spock had touched the food.

At last Spock spoke up, "I must confess, I was impressed by the way you managed to handle that situation without violence."

"There's enough of it in the galaxy already." Jabari responded. He wanted to add, 'Which is why I'm not lunging across the table to wring your green blooded neck'...but left it out.

"Yeah, like you don't contribute...now...and then," said Nyota popping some Bajoran curry in her mouth with a bite of Naann bread.

Jabari looked at her and said pointedly, "Generally, in situations like these the words_ little sister_ and a smile cause would be perpetrators to desist immediately."

"It seemed a rather effective tactic." Spock raised an eyebrow. "Unfortunately, I am unable to smile."

Nyota gave a short laugh. Jabari stared at Spock a moment trying to compute what had just come out of Spock's mouth. It was a joke...a little too cerebral for Jabari's brain right now...but Hell, Spock was a Vulcan. Did he expect knock-knock jokes?

"That's very dry sense of humor you have there, Spock...." Jabari began...and then something rather unfortunate slipped from his brain right out his mouth, "I'm glad my little sister isn't just interested in you for the hot sex."

Spock went faintly green, but Jabari suspected it was in anger. The Vulcan's nostril's flared and his head tilted. To be fair, Jabari realized, his own facial features probably registered a wee bit more anger than that.

Nyota burst out laughing.

Jabari took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was obvious Spock had tried to make a conciliatory gesture. Clenching his fist and released it slowly he said, "You did good back there too...One of the marks of a guy who is really good in a fight is that he doesn't fight unless it is absolutely necessary...

Spock was silent for a moment, then he said, "Thank you."

"...although it would have been nice to crack a pool cue over their heads and then use the pieces to pummel them to death." Jabari finished wistfully.

"Indeed," said the Vulcan.

Jabari couldn't tell if he was agreeing with him or just acknowledging the statement.

"Spock promised the last guy who was hitting on me _exquisite_ pain," piped up Nyota.

Well then. That 'indeed' was probably an agreement.

"Nyota, you misrepresent the scenario," Spock interjected.

"Oh yeah, you offered him the _opportunity_ for exquisite pain...a demo...demonstration...or something..." Ny stuttered.

"It actually is a significant distinction..." Jabari shrugged and looked at Spock, "Offering him the opportunity is a lot more respectable than promising him something and not following through. And since it was in defense of my sister...completely acceptable."

Spock tilted his head.

"That same guy called Spock my chaperone!" Ny slurred happily, popping a bite of grilled sweet potato in her mouth.

Jabari coughed.

Spock looked down for a moment, and then looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Ironic."

Jabari snorted a laugh. "Um...Yeah...Let's change the subject."

"Agreed," said Spock.

"Let's talk about your Romulan engineer!" Ny exclaimed loud enough the whole Nebula could hear. She was actually wiggling in her seat with excitement.

...Or he could talk about his little sister's sex life. Mentally he weighed which topic was more disagreeable.

...and decided they were equally disagreeable for different reasons.

"Ny," he hissed, "Having a Romulan engineer would be highly _unusual_..."

"You're evading....." Ny said swirling a glass of ice in her hand.

"...not to mention..._illegal..._"

"You're evading...I can tell even when I'm completely sloooshed."

Sloooshed? Yep, she was sloooshed alright.

Spock spoke up in Vulcan, _"Perhaps, this is a better topic for someplace more private."  
_  
"What he said," Jabari replied in Standard.

"Oh, I get it," said Nyota. She switched to Vulcan, _"It's a secret."_

_"Perhaps," _Spock said, _"You can explain the expression_ 'Mad Dog' _instead."_

_x x x x x x x_

Spock had recovered from his mortification by the time he had sat back down at the table. What was done was done. Nyota was obviously highly intoxicated, due to no fault of her own. Spock needed to recover from his own emotional unease in order to take care of her in her compromised state. He could and would stay with Nyota until he could verify her safety -- and he was certain that her safety wouldn't be ensured until she was away from her brother.

Spock suspect Jabari was also somewhat affected by the intoxicant in the smoke. He didn't seem in complete control of his person...or at least not his mouth.

"I thought Mad Dog was just a personal nickname you had for Spock....but then Cessnia called him that too..." Nyota said to her brother.

Personal nickname? He had not known he had been called Mad Dog before this evening. "Curious. It is outside the categories of the usual monikers."

"Usual monikers?" Jabari asked.

Spock was silent.

Unfortunately, his mate was still suffering the effect of too many intoxicants in her blood stream. "Half-breed...'course the Vulcans make it sound much more proper than that..."

Spock turned and looked hard at Nyota...who was completely oblivious.

"And then there is 'green blooded bastard'...humans say that...."

"Okay, Ny, I'm getting the picture..." Jabari said.

"...and I've also heard aesexual walking calculator on occasion..." Ny piped.

"Ny!" Jabari hissed, "That's just wrong. Don't talk about _your man_ like that!"

Nyota blinked.

Spock was taken aback. 'Your man'? Jabari was talking about...him. He had acknowledged publicly that Nyota was _his._ Spock was genuinely moved by this admission.

"Not that I wouldn't prefer to think of Spock as an aesexual walking calculator," muttered Jabari.

And there was the hostile language right after a moving gesture of acceptance. Xeli leaf or proof Jabari was unstable?

It was best not to argue with the insane. "Perhaps we should return to the topic at hand?" Spock asked.

"Woof! Jabari, start 'splainen," said Nyota. Spock and Jabari both turned and looked at her.

Jabari shook his head, "Ah, Ny...you are so sloooshed."

"Don't you mean sloshed?" asked Nyota.

"Yeah...hey, maybe you're getting better..." The tenderness in Jabari's voice was evident even to Spock.

"Stop evadin' and start 'splainin!" Nyota urged.

Jabari shrugged. "Independent businessmen, or pirates, if the two of you prefer..." Jabari raised an eyebrow and his gaze flickered between Spock and Nyota again. "...call Vulcans Dogs. Not necessarily in a derogatory manner. Dogs are a wonderful species. Intelligent as non-sentient creatures go, loyal, dependable...but their natural state is domestication.

"Wolves are not a domesticated species, and they will attack humans with provocation, or extreme hunger. But as a friend of mine from Montana explained it, wolves are designed to be wild. Being wild is their natural state. It is pretty easy to predict how a wolf will behave. Don't provoke them, stay away if game is low, you're safe.

"There is a more dangerous creature than a wolf -- a wild dog. Dogs aren't supposed to be wild. If a dog is wild it means that something is wrong with it upstairs..." Jabari tapped his head for emphasis. "A wild dog is by definition a mad dog, and he doesn't need provocation to attack."

"Spacers consider a Vulcan who puts aside rules and logic as...wild...and therefore mad. Hence the expression mad dog. Mad dogs are considered more dangerous than criminal humans, Orions, Romulans, Ferengi or Klingons. The perfect combination of strength and brains combined with unpredictability."

Jabari looked at Spock, "You know Spock, where I come from people would take that as a compliment."

Spock tilted his head. "I am from Vulcan."

"Uh huh," Jabari continued. "Cessnia, deduced that you were part of my crew. If you are with me, you are breaking the rules...and if you're breaking the rules you are by definition a mad dog."

Nyota chirped, "But Spock isn't a pirate like you. So why do _you_ call Spock Mad Dog?"

Spock knew the answer of course, but Nyota was not herself...

Jabari looked at his sister, and sighed.

He didn't have to explain, Spock knew the 'illogical' behavior Jabari was commenting on.

_"My Spock is always logical,"_ said Nyota in Vulcan. Spock fought back the urge to purr when she said it. Instead he just turned and looked at her, perhaps for a few seconds more than was absolutely necessary. Nyota looked up at him and smiled...still charming despite her intoxication. He wished he could press his forehead to hers. He wondered how her current physiological state would translate across a link.

"Ummm....yeah. Could you not make out with your eyes in front of me?" asked Jabari.

Spock forced his attention back to the other man and considered his point of view. From his external vantage point Spock would have appeared to cast aside rules and logic, and he was concerned for his sister. However, being lectured by Jabari about obeying rules was...grating.

"There is internal logic to our situation. Your sister has on occasion explained to me that you have logical reasons for what you do..."

"Jabari does have logical reasons!" said Nyota.

"...although I find it difficult to believe," finished Spock.

With a scowl Jabari stood up suddenly from the booth. "Come with me."


	49. Romulans

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Trek Nyota or Spock...and Jabari just can't be owned by anyone ;-)**

One more chapter after this and we're done in Africa!

**Romulans**

"Where are we going?" Spock asked.

"I think I know!" said Nyota excitedly, and sadly uninformatively, as they stepped out of the Nebula. She weaved dangerously and Spock held out an arm to steady her. It was acceptable contact even by Vulcan standards, considering her current condition, and the crowd. The street outside the Nebula was filled with humans and humanoids -- none of them looked like they came from Star Fleet. He didn't see any Vulcans either.

It was exactly 21:55 according to Spock's internal clock.

Walking slightly ahead of Spock and his sister, Jabari pulled out an audio comlink earset.

"Hey Dad," Jabari said into the comlink.

"What is he doing?" Spock asked.

"Coverin' for me," Nyota replied.

"Ny's going to be staying with me in the city tonight Dad." Jabari said into the com. "What? How did the museum visit go? Oh, great...yeah, I don't know...I think the Lieutenant enjoyed it...kind of hard to tell with Vulcans..."

Jabari's pace slowed so he was now in line with Spock and Nyota. "No...no...actually he is still here...yes, he found my company tolerable enough that he came to dinner with Ny and me...uhhhhh huh..."

"Your brother sounds annoyed," commented Spock.

"He's talking to my dad," said Nyota as though it explained everything.

"Actually, Dad, I was just in the process of convincing him and Ny to leave Starfleet and become Ferrengi spice traders..." Jabari said with agitation.

Well, that was insulting. Spock responded to Jabari in Ferrengi, _"We will never become a Ferrengi spice traders..."  
_  
Jabari glared at him.  
_  
"Spock, Ferrengi's are kind of fun...once you get to know them," _said Nyota in the same language. She winked at Spock.

Spock looked pointedly at Jabari. _"Perhaps I would consider trading __Ferengi mountain sailing snails"_.

_"I hear they are...deliciousss...and profitable,"_ slurred Nyota. Ahh...she understood the game, even though she was inebriated.

"What Dad? Hold on...." said Jabari. He switched to Ferrengi and said to Spock and Nyota, _"What the latinum are you talking about?? Ferengi mountain sailing earwax..."_

Of course as a human he couldn't pronounce the word 'snail' in Ferrengi and it came out the lowest slur in that language.

Nyota burst out laughing. Spock felt a rather intense feeling of satisfaction.

Jabari pointed a finger at Spock and said, "You fucker..."

And then he pressed his com closer to his ear. "What Dad? Oh, just some bastard hitting on Ny...yeah, yeah...I'll make sure she is safe...uh huh...I'll make sure no one bothers her...red or green blooded" He looked up at Spock. "Bye dad...." With that he closed the link.

Spock looked at Jabari and tilted his head. Jabari took one look at him, shook his head and turned to his sister who was now smiling ear to ear. "Wipe that my-boyfriend-is-so-much-smarter-than-you look off your face right now!"

Nyota giggled and Spock tried to decide if Jabari had just complimented or insulted him.

Weaving through the crowd they were soon at a dark austere building that appeared to be some sort of warehouse. The entrance was a heavy metal door just wide and high enough for one adult human male. Jabari put his hand to a pad and the door opened. He walked in and Nyota, still tipsy, followed her brother in without a backward look.

Nyota did not appear nervous...but then, she hadn't been nervous in the presence of seven dubious Orions earlier either. Eying the building and the neighborhood warily Spock went in the door...And was immediately taken aback.

He was in a wide, clean, exceedingly professional looking lobby. Dark stained wood lined the walls. The floor was a glistening white marble. A dark wood desk topped with black polished concrete was at the far side of the room.

The only thing that might set it apart from an ordinary business lobby were the unusually large security guards. One sat behind the desk, the other stood at attention in front. The man in front of the desk wore a phaser.

"Jabari, nice to see you again...Miss Uhura." The man behind the desk tilted his head in Nyota's direction. "Kanel was by to greet the crew from the National Museum. He asked me to let you know that the merchandise is already aboard."

"Thanks, Abisi. Nice to see you again, Kafil."

"You too, sir."

Both men were staring at Spock.

"He's alright guys. Vulcan's like art too."

They nodded, but as Spock, Nyota and Jabari got on the lift Spock overheard the two security guards whispering.  
_  
"Ten to one he's a mad dog..."_

The lift doors closed and Nyota put an arm protectively in his...or perhaps she was just trying to stabilize herself, or both. Spock wasn't sure.

Jabari shook his head angrily. "Sorry you heard that Spock. I'll let building management know about that gossip. Totally unacceptable. You might have been a customer."

They exited the lift and came to another door. Jabari paused for a retinal scan, put his hand to a pad and then said, "N-Y-0-T-A-0-7-14."

Spock tilted his head...it was Nyota's name, birthday month and day. He was immediately struck by how terribly insecure the code was. He knew humans were bad about this sort of thing; nonetheless it made him further question Jabari's reliability.

Lights flickered on as Jabari entered what appeared to be a gallery. Spock saw three rather nice pieces of Bajoran artwork in display cases. He was about to go look at them more carefully, when Nyota said, "Best stuff is upstairs."

"Come on," said Jabari on some discreet steps on the other side of the room. "Follow me..."

Stepping up into the space at the top of staircase Spock almost caught his breath.

There was a couch, a table and a chair in the center of the room. But it wasn't the furniture that got his attention: on the walls hung paintings and tapestries of just about every known sentient species. Orion textiles of intricate design and fibers he could not identify, Kardassian layered paper paintings, painted sheet-metal pieces that looked vaguely Vulcan -- although he didn't know of Vulcans painting on sheet metal, and Earth imagery from every culture and time frame.

Along the floor next to the walls were statues and pottery -- again, just about every species seemed to be represented. Although he noted a propensity for Bajoran pieces, and more pieces that looked vaguely Vulcan.

"Most of my merchandise is actually acquired and sold legally," Jabari said. "The Terran and Orion pieces...I get them from museums, much as I got pieces from the National Museum today. I resell to the Ferrengi and other interested third parties that museums do not want to publicly acknowledge they associate with. It is most of my volume...but a tiny portion of my profit -- still it always helps to have a legitimate arm of a business." He gestured around with his hands, "Obviously, I don't sell everything I receive..."

"He likes to pretend he's a bad ass cap'talist," slurred Nyota, "...but some stuff he just can't part with..."

"That's not true, Ny," said Jabari, "I'm sure I'll be willing to part with it...as soon as I can find a buyer worthy enough for it...who is also willing to pay what I think it is worth...of course some of it is priceless...." Kneeling down he gently picked up a piece of African art, a carved face in wood, and gazed fixedly at it. He put the piece down and then straightened.

"A lot of these pieces don't come from museums though. They were obtained from the neutral zone from abandoned Federation digs...if I hadn't claimed this painting," he pointed to one of the sheet metal pieces Spock had noticed earlier, "it would now be on the outside a Klingon Warbird hull."

He pointed to a piece of Bajoran pottery, "...and that would be gravel under a Klingon boot."

"It's actually legal for me to have these pieces Spock -- as of about ten years ago, after twelve years of lobbying it was finally decided that since the alternative to being claimed by amateur archeologists was destruction, amateurs would be allowed to claim artifacts in the neutral zone. But it isn't legal to sell the artifacts.

"What this has meant is that the rich and powerful...the extremely wealthy, members of Star Fleet, and Federation dignitaries with access to ships have snatched up a lot of pieces...because what ordinary person can finance missions without selling the artifacts?

"The answer of course, is none. However, there is still too much to be found and claimed by dilettante Star Fleet and Federation archeologists -- who quite frankly aren't willing to risk as much as people like myself...so most every artifact in the neutral zone would be destroyed if it weren't for independent archeologists and businessmen, like myself, willing to go in and rescue them. Of course, some of the artifacts we rescue, we must sell...if we didn't sell them we wouldn't be able to fund our rescue operations."

"This..." announced Nyota in a somber voice, "Is what happens when you send a twelve year old boy to a young archeologists and young entrepreneurs camp in the same summer." She finished leaning heavily on Spock's arm.

Spock stared at Jabari, absolutely speechless at this rather unique rationalization.

"Of course," said Jabari, "It might be nice if I could legally sell these works to museums so they could go on public display, you know, for the common good and all that...but I can't. So I don't...usually...

"I suppose if I was a really good person, I would dedicate my life to reforming the beast that is Federation bureaucracy and change the law. But I have no patience for that sort of long, dull slog...and in the time it took to reform the law the opportunity would be lost...because quite frankly dodging Klingons and Star Fleet makes my profession more lucrative. Supply and demand and all that."

"...and he gets a rush out of dodging Klingons and the Federation" Nyota cut in.

Jabari smiled. "Yeah, and that too. I'm probably an adrenalin junky. But hey, I'm good at it."

Nyota took a step towards her brother, "Uh huh, that explains the scar on your head. How did you get that Jabari?"

"Eh? It's really nothing...everything worked out."

Nyota went forward and unsteadily pressed her head into Jabari's left shoulder. Even without a link Spock understood the sadness behind the gesture. There was no telepathic link between the siblings.

He'd been deeply unsettled by his brief absence from Nyota. What would it be like to have someone you love separated from you for vast amounts of time knowing the odds were that they were not safe?

Although a mind meld cemented a mental bond between Vulcans, in cases of very extreme emotion -- birth, death or a serious injury, a bonding was not necessary for one Vulcan to feel the emotions of another. If anything serious happened to his mother, he would know it through his father. In some cases, he might be able to feel the emotions of Vulcans he wasn't even related to.

Her brother looked down at her. "Hey, you're not allowed to worry about me -- you're the one going into Star Fleet. Its getting dangerous out there Ny...if you ever have considered going the academic route..."

Nyota sighed. "My advisors keep suggesting I go into teaching. But I don't know..."

Spock thought about what it would mean if Nyota would stay planet side. To have assurances that she would be near him...

Jabari said softly, "We're heading for war Ny...or something."

"So why don't _you _stop?" Her head still rested on his left shoulder, but she brought up a fist and hit his chest with it.

"Well, right now prices are really high for anything I find, because supply is so low. I'm just going to stay in until war breaks out...then I won't be able to fly at all. Make hay while the sun shines and all that..."

"Yeah, right." She pulled away from him a bit, but held his left hand in hers.

Jabari sighed, "It's hard to stop, Ny. I like my boat, and I love my crew. They are like a second family to me. A Ferengi, two humans, a Bajoran..." he looked up at Spock, "No mad dogs...but you are pretty good in a fight, Spock...if you need another calling..."

Spock was completely at a loss to tell if Jabari was joking or serious. He seemed both. He decided to take the comment and implied offer at face value. Placing his hands behind his back he replied, "Thank you, but I am presently occupied."

"Well, just letting you know...You know, all anyone cares about when you're on a boat in the middle of space is if you're doing your job. Ferengi, human, Bajoran...mad dog...it doesn't matter. Having a shared purpose, risking your life, it bonds you...its funny, all of the humanoids are so different...but so the same....

"You can trust Ferengi with your life?" asked Spock, intrigued and dubious.

Jabari laughed, "Yeah! You can! Kanel, my co-pilot once took some shrapnel for me..."

When he said this Spock saw Nyota tremble.

"Poor little bastard...you know how he justified it? 'Jabari, you'll bring me more latinum alive than dead'...total bullshit...but that's how Ferengi justify everything they do -- bad and good."

He sighed with a smile.

Nyota was staring down at his hand. "You're leaving someone out...your Romulan."

Spock's eyebrows went up. Although Cessnia had mentioned Jabari having a Romulan engineer it seemed impossible to Spock at the time. The Romulans had been discovered twenty-five years ago after the Kelvin incident. They were insular and hardly ever interacted with the Federation. Spock himself, though fluent in their language, and knowing something of their culture, had never actually met a Romulan.

Spock said, "You do not actually have a Romulan aboard. That would be...in your own words...unusual...and highly illegal. Moreover, what Romulan would serve aboard a ship with a smuggler? They have highly developed senses of honor..."

"Are you saying I'm not honorable?" asked Jabari with a scowl.

"But Jabari," Ny said pulling gently on his fingers. "It is weird. Romulans hardly talk to the Federation. How would one end up on your boat?"

"You two lead such sheltered Star Fleet lives. The whole galaxy is not composed of hominids in Star Fleet, or the Klingon fleet, or the Romulan fleet. It is mostly composed of sentient creatures who don't care all that much about what their various fleets are up to..."

Nyota rolled her eyes, turned around and walked slowly to the couch where she half fell into the seat. Spock noticed she seemed to be looking at something in her hands. "Romulans don't work 'n play well with others. Everything we hear they are very loyal. What sort of Romulan would hook up with a human captain?"

"A damn fine one!" Jabari retorted.

Nyota let out a quick laugh from the couch and held up the ring that had previously been on Jabari's finger. "I bet she's a damn fine Romulan! The ring says, 'Honor' and 'Loyalty' in Romulan, but they are the feminine forms...this is a girl's ring!"

"Give that back!" yelled Jabari

Nyota held the ring in her hand and laughed, "Preciousssss.......my preciousssss........"

Jabari walked over, snatched it back, and put it on his pinky fingers. Nyota giggled.

Spock stared hard at him Jabari. Did he really come in contact with a Romulan and convince her to join his crew?

Jabari didn't not seem to understand his gaze. "What? It's not like that. For the most part we don't talk much and stay out of each others way. She just gave me this ring for rescuing her. I found her in an escape pod on a barely inhabitable M class planet."

Well, that explains the how...but what did Jabari think he was implying?

"Stop staring at me. She's my engineer. It's not like there is a pointy ear fetish in this family or something."

Oh. That is what he thought Spock was implying.

Spock blinked and looked at Nyota. She looked at him. They both looked at Jabari.

Jabari raised his arms. "What?"

Just then Jabari's comlink went off. Looking at the signature he murmured, "Excuse me, I have to take this, be right back." With that he walked to a door on the far side of the room and stepped through. With a whoosh the door closed behind him.

Standing up from the couch Nyota wobbled a little bit, then she walked over and leaned her head into Spock's chest.

"My brain feels like it is made of jello, Spock...and yet, I feel a lot smarter than I did..."

Spock looked at the door Jabari had just walked through.

"We're not in public, Spock. We're with family. And its not like we're making out."

"I know, Nyota." Despite the antagonism between her brother and himself Spock realized the other man acknowledged Nyota as _his._ It was...liberating. Bringing a hand up Spock gently touched her temple. He immediately sensed her physiological state. She was relaxed, and although not entirely unpleasant it felt unnatural.

"What happened to me, Spock?"

"You were drugged, Nyota. The smoke, and Andorian brandy."

"I am still drugged."

"Yes, I believe you are a bit. But you do seem better."

"Am I going to want to know what happened?"

He did something that was quite unusual, considering they weren't in complete privacy. He kissed the top of her head. "Perhaps not."

She giggled, and his fingers trembled...it was not the normal sharp buzz he got from her laughter.

Nyota took his hand so that their fingers touched. "Come on," she said, "I know a lot about most of these pieces...

Turning she took him closer to Jabari's collection "There is a lot of Bajoran stuff out there...they were _everywhere _for a while...

"Do you see the paintings on metal? Those are most likely early Romulan...before they were really Romulan...just after they left Vulcan. Its theorized that they painted on metal because it's a lot easier to find metal out in space on asteroids...and...stuff, than it is to find...organic materials like wood...or fibers for canvas or paper..."

Twenty five minutes after Jabari had left he still had not returned. Spock could hear occasional muffled conversation from the adjoining room, but nothing distinct.

He was getting a lot out of Nyota's informed, if slightly slurred, commentary. They were looking at an Orion tapestry when Nyota pushed her side closer to his and whispered into his ear, "You know what...as soon as Jabari comes back why don't we go back to your hotel? I can spend the night there...tomorrow we can sleep in. Or, whatever..."

Spock felt a flicker of desire through her fingertips and suddenly remembered two things; that Nyota's parents were not expecting her home, and that her brother had promised no red or green blooded man would lay a hand on her tonight.

He wasn't afraid of Jabari, but he was concerned about protocol, "Nyota, I believe your brother believes you will remain here."

He didn't add that by extension he would be remaining with her. Even if it meant meditating in the corner. Actually, he'd have a nice view of the Orion tapestries there and he might be able to initiate a meditative trance just looking at their intricate patterns.

"Relax, I covered for him sooooooo many times. It would be so nice to have you all to myself in the morning. No class, no work...room service..."

They would have precious little opportunity for days uninterrupted by obligations when they got back to San Francisco, Spock realized.

Murmuring, "That sounds...quite satisfactory," he pressed his forehead against the side of her head. Through the finger link he felt a flutter of happiness and arousal, slightly veiled by the artificial sensations caused by the intoxicants in her system.

He heard the muffled noises from the other room die down and he pulled his forehead away from Nyota. She made no move to release his hand though. She really didn't need to, he realized. This contact was acceptable here. He sent a flicker of happiness through the link. She looked at him and smiled.

As Jabari came through the door both he and Nyota turned to look at him. The other man's face was set in stone.

"Hey big brother, business?" asked Nyota.

"Yeah." He glanced briefly at them, eyes lingering on their joined fingers, but he said nothing. One hand fluttered at his right hip the other patted his left thigh and he stared hard at the floor.

"Well, we can leave you to it, Jabari," Nyota smiled. "Spock and I can go now..."

Jabari looked up suddenly, "Ny, you can't leave."


	50. Final Confrontations

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Trek Nyota or Spock...and Jabari just can't be owned by anyone ;-)**

O.K., there is ONE MORE Africa chapter after this. I just really like the last sentence at the end here. ****

Final Confrontations

As soon as the words 'you can't leave now' were out of Jabari's mouth Spock felt a wave of resentment from Nyota through the link.

"I'm not a child Jabari...and I'm fine...even if I am slighhhtlly...in-inebriated. I have Spock."

Jabari stood silent for a moment...he looked between Spock and Nyota.

He swallowed. "Ny, it isn't that. I have to leave soon. We had to make some last minute changes...my boat is scheduled to leave dock at 03:35."

That was only four hours and thirteen minutes away.

As soon as Jabari said this Spock felt a wave of fear and sadness cut through their finger link. The feelings were very recognizable, even through the muddy tinge of the drugs in her system.

Spock could not ask her to leave now...and he knew she would not go.

Nyota's eyes went from Spock, to her brother and back to Spock.

"Spock can stay too, Ny..." Jabari said. Nyota's brother looked down at the floor a moment then turned to him and said, "Spock, do you play 3D chess?"

Did he _play_ 3D chess? Play was so inadequate a word.

Without waiting for an answer Jabari gestured towards the couch. "Sit down I'll go get the board..."

As he left the room Nyota looked at Spock. "I'm sorry, I can't go yet."

He sent her a flicker of calm through the link. "I know. It is quite alright. I do understand." He did wonder if he was expected to go. But Jabari had mentioned 3D chess...

x x x x x x

Was it his imagination, or had Spock's ears _perked_ when he mentioned the words '3D chess'? Romulans, at least his Romulan, were crazy about the game too. Go figure.

Jabari wanted Spock to stay...it would be one more reason for Ny not to leave. She_ had _to stay; it was a matter of ritual. Whenever he was in town they _always_ stayed up the last night together. Breaking the ritual would be bad luck. Not that he believed in luck precisely. But this ritual helped keep him calm...and being nervous in the neutral zone was never a good idea, especially with all that was going on right now.

When he came back, 3D chess set in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, the Vulcan and his sister were sitting on the couch. He noticed that Spock and Nyota weren't precisely holding hands, but their fingers were touching.

"Here, Ny, drink this, its only from the replicator, but it should make you feel better..." Jabari said putting the tea in front of Ny on the coffee table, and positioning the board in front of Spock.

"What happened, Jabari?" Ny asked.

Sitting down on the chair across from the couch he shrugged. "Someone...possibly a green someone on her way out of the system in a hurry...let it be known that we might have a Romulan on our ship."

"Green someone?"

Jabari and Spock stared at Nyota.

Jabari coughed. Maybe better not to go there. "Rhin, our Romulan engineer, is undocumented, of course...we have to leave before any inspectors decide to come by and meet her. 03:35 is the earliest we can go."

"I'd like to meet her," said Ny.

Jabari looked up at his sister. "Maybe not tonight, Ny...She'll be cranky if we get in her way while she's running diagnostics...a cranky Romulan is a dangerous thing..."

Spock took the black pieces, Jabari took the white. As he placed the pieces on the board Jabari's eyes darted back to Spock and Nyota's fingers. What had he heard about Vulcans hands and fingers?

"So, umm...that thing you're doing with your hands...are you kissing?"

Spock blinked.

"Spock, most people don't know, they think like Gaila... It is an empathic link, Jabari...the emotions kind of depend on what we're talking about."

"We were just discussing your imminent departure. We were most certainly not kissing," the Vulcan added flatly.

"Oh." Jabari said. "Is that like a mind meld...but on the hands? I heard mind melds can be used for torture."

Spock looked up quickly from the chessboard. "This is not like a mind meld....Where did you hear that mind melds were used for torture?" His tone was even but Jabari noticed the Vulcan was now physically clasping Ny's hand.

"It was something Rhinea, Rhin told me. She said that your people drove hers off Vulcan long ago. She said they were rounded up and tortured by Vulcans...and that the Vulcans used mind melds as part of their torture techniques...it was how they found those who were not followers of Surak."

"Wow," said Nyota.

Spock looked at his sister and then back to Jabari. "The official account of the Romulan departure from Vulcan is quite different. It is generally believed they voluntarily left Vulcan because they were unhappy with Surak's teachings. Despite the peace Surak brought after thousands of years of conflict."

"According to Rhinea the official version is shit..history is written by the victors and all that," Jabari said.

"But that is the official reason believed by the Romulans as well," replied the Vulcan.

"History isn't written by the victors...." Ny said. "History is written by historians..."

Both he and Spock looked at his sister. She looked dazed.

"It makes sense you know...Vulcans historians want to protect their reputation as logical and benevolent. Romulans want to protect their pride and not admit that they lost...the official versions of both sides could be very different from what really happened..." Nyota's voice trailed off at the end. And her eyes seemed to get a little blurry.

"Spock," she asked softly, "are mind melds used for torture?"

The Vulcan looked down at a chess piece he held in his hand. "Mind melds, have in the past been used for...torture...and to extract information...and they are still sanctioned for these uses today – but only if the need is great enough.

"This is not their primary purpose. They are used for bonding between friends and pairs."

"Oh," said Jabari. Bonding between friends and pairs...but used for coercion. He suddenly had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looked at Spock and his sister. "Have you..."

"The answer is no." Spock said.

"Oh. You haven't...?"

"No, we haven't Jabari," Ny said. "Let's change the subject."

At these words she slipped down so that she was lying on the couch on her back, her legs folded up so that she would fit next to Spock. The top of her head nearly touched the Vulcans leg. She still held one of his hands in hers.

Jabari had other questions…things he'd heard about Vulcans...maybe if he started out with something innocuous? "Do you guys get intoxicated by chocolate?"

"Yes," Spock said.

"You do?" asked Nyota looking up excitedly. "How come you never told me that?"

Spock looked at Ny and raised an eyebrow. "I would have thought you would have..." Then he stopped, looked at Jabari and finished by saying, "You never asked."

Nyota snickered. Jabari decided he didn't want to know the rest of that sentence.

"So have you ever had any?" his sister asked.

"There was an unfortunate incident when my human grandmother gave me a chocolate Easter bunny."

Jabari actually found himself snickering at the flatness of Spock's tone.

"Awww....little drunk Spock...that sounds adorable." Ny said.

"The impulses of a five year old, the strength of a human adult male, intoxication and furniture do not mix well together."

Jabari snorted. "Okay, Vulcans and finger kissing is a maybe-kinda-sorta and chocolate is a definite yes...What about the seven year itch?"

"Pardon?" asked Spock looking up.

"Oh that's an expression..." Ny began.

"Never mind," Jabari said. He really didn't want to spell out that particular rumor.

"...humans supposedly get restless in marriage every seven years...and there is a higher risk that they will separate." Ny finished.

"That cycle does not exist among Vulcans," replied Spock, intently arranging the last of his pieces on the board.

"Ehhh...had to be a myth. Too freakin' weird to be true." Jabari said. "Okay, playing for time here. One minute per move, Spock, you go first."

"So tell me about your Romulan engineer...how fine is she?" Ny asked as Spock opened the game.

"It doesn't make a difference how fine she is Ny. What matters is that she can take my ship point one five past maximum warp." Jabari responded.

The Vulcan looked up, "Really?"

"Yeah, I have no idea how she does it."

"What did she do before you found her?" asked Ny.

"I don't know," Jabari replied, eying Spock's next move. "She doesn't want to talk about it, and I have more sense than to ask."

He looked at his sister. "We play 3D chess, we talk about the big things, but never the little things. Trust her with my life...she's part of my crew...but there _really_ is nothing between us."

"But she's really hot, isn't she."

Picking up his next chess piece Jabari sighed. "Ny, she isn't really hot, she's..." He looked at his sister, "I don't want to discuss this anymore."

x x x x x x x

Nyota was sleeping curled up to the couch next to Spock. Between some books on Jabari's coffee table, and the chess board were two mostly empty bowls of replicator made mixed nuts...Jabari had been eating from his hands from one. Spock had been using a spoon in the other.

"You sure you don't want more?" asked Jabari moving a chess piece.

Was Jabari trying to test him? "I am fine," Spock replied.

"But don't you want to eat more than that?"

Spock made his next move. "I have consumed exactly as many calories as you have."

"Huh. Would have thought you would want more...Rhin eats like a freakin' horse. Are you sure you don't want more?"

Spock took his turn then asked, "Are you trying to antagonize me?"

Jabari looked up at him before moving his next piece. "Nooooooooo...I am trying to be a good host."

Spock decided to ignore this statement and moved a rook to answer Jabari's current offensive. The man was a very effective chess player. Spock hadn't even won all their matches.

"Nice move....Mad Dog." Jabari answered the move with one of his own.

There it was again. A compliment...followed by an antagonistic remark.

"May I pose a personal query?" Spock asked.

"Sure. But I may not answer. If this is more about Rhin..."

"No." Spock tilted his head. The other man was sensitive on that topic. "I have noticed that for every conciliatory gesture or compliment you give me you follow with an antagonistic remark. May I ask why?"

Jabari looked up at him. "You are my sister's...boyfriend...I believe there is some law of physics or mathematics or something that states if I was entirely nice to you the universe would collapse upon itself."

Ah. This was some sort of human brotherly reaction to his bonded status with his sister. But the rest...

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "I am well versed in the laws of physics and mathematics and I am not aware of this law. Nor am I aware of any as yet to be proven theories on the subject."

Jabari opened his mouth as though to speak. Then laughed. "That was a joke, wasn't it?"

"She doesn't just like me for..." Spock stopped, tilted his head and took a deep breath. He couldn't complete the sentence, even in jest.

Jabari made a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a snort. "I can't be entirely nice to you because I can't entirely like you. I need to keep emotional distance. That way, if you hurt her, it's easier for me to hunt you down and kill you."

Spock considered this as he moved his next piece. "That sounds...almost logical."

x x x x x x x

At 02:00 Jabari finished their last game and stood up from his chair. "I've got to get ready to go."

Spock moved to wake Nyota, but Jabari held up a hand. "No, let her sleep a little longer." Then he stepped out of the room.

Spock idly glanced at the books on the coffee table -- the Ferengi additions of "The Mystery of Capital" and "Capitalism and Freedom".

Jabari came back with a large metal suitcase and a satchel thrown over his shoulder. Seeing Spock's gaze he said, "_Some_ of The Laws of Acquisition are kind of a joke. The older successful Ferengi like to throw off cocky youngsters and outsiders. They do love ol' Milt and De Soto though.

"I admire both...De Soto's views were partially discounted by the events of the Iraq War in the 2000s...security is as important as property to personal and social prosperity...but I still think he has a lot of merit."

Spock stared at Jabari...he had only heard summaries of these authors theories.

"You haven't read Hernando De Soto or Milton Friedman have you?" Jabari said.

Spock shook his head. "No, should I have?"

Jabari muttered something about "Commie Star Fleet and Vulcan Academies." He gestured to the books, "They're yours." Then he flipped open the suitcase he had been carrying.

Spock carefully stood so not to wake Nyota, and reached to pick up the books. From his standing position he got a glimpse into the suitcase. It was packed with exotic firearms. "It is strange to hear you speak of the importance of security for social prosperity." He looked hard at the firearms, and then up at Jabari, he was almost sure the weapons were illegal.

"Spock, these are for _personal _security. Look I am fully aware and comfortable with the moral ambiguity of my actions, and fully prepared to accept the consequences." He gazed at Spock and said, "Are you comfortable with..." Then he shook his head and looked back to the weapons he was inspecting.

Nodding once to himself Jabari closed the suitcase. "Now let's wake Nyota."

x x x x x x

Nyota cried as she said goodbye to her brother. Spock spent most of the time during the protracted farewell staring at the floor.

Just before leaving Jabari took a small silver globe the size of an apple out of his satchel and handed it to his sister. "I almost forgot, this is for you Ny. I found it on an asteroid in a molten mess of trash...Just something from the junk room I think you will like. Say the word 'begin' in Romulan and it will be fairly self explanatory."

Spock wondered what could be so interesting that it had been relegated to both a pile of trash and a 'junk room' but Nyota grasped it like it was precious. She gave her brother an enormous hug.

Jabari stepped back. "I programmed the front door to let you out. Abisi and Kafil can get you a shuttle cab." Jabari slipped a comlink onto his ear and then said, "Kanel, I dropped the shield for one point five minutes. Prepare to beam me up."

He picked up the metal suitcase and looked at his sister. "Bye, Ny. Love you." Then he looked at Spock and twisted his hand into crude Vulcan salute, smiled and said in rough Vulcan,_ "Live long and prosper_...Mad Dog." And then in the glitter of transporter light he was gone.

**A/N:**  
Jabari's boat needs a name. Ideas? He won't be back in Descartes, but he will be back in the sequel.

Cool reads on : AU Spock-i-licious funDown and Dirty in Iowa, TalesFromTheSpockSide wrote a very hot Gaila/Spock/Uhura chapter in her "Fond Farewells" story, TeaOli's Once and Future is back!

Occasionally I write companion pieces to Descartes...If you need a little more physical romance try "Vulcan Kissing" (there is a T and an M Version) and also there is "Once Bitten"

Capitalism and Freedom and the Mystery of Capital are both real books...The Mystery of Capital is probably the more accessible of the two -- I think it should be required reading for all of mankind.

As always, comments/reviews are really appreciated!


	51. A Little Extra Drama

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Trek Nyota or Spock...and Jabari just can't be owned by anyone ;-)**

Ooops...still in Africa. At Spock's hotel…

**A Little Extra Drama**

By the time they got back to Spock's hotel room all Nyota had the energy left for was to peel off her clothes and fall into bed. She laid the small silver globe on the night stand next to her.

Even Spock was tired. Pulling Nyota close to him underneath the covers he brought his fingers to her temples. And felt...

An edge of intoxication, _love_ for him...

And _sadness..._

"Thank you for being so nice about last night, Spock. I never know when I'll see Jabari again...or if I will."

It would have been human to offer reassurances, but Spock remembered Jabari's comments about conditions in the neutral zone and he'd seen the small suitcase arsenal...he kissed her forehead but remained quiet.

Rolling over, Nyota brought the hand that had been on her temples around her shoulders and pressed her body into the position she called 'spooning'. Throwing the covers on her side of the bed over Spock she murmured, "You are a giant hot water bottle." And then she drifted off to sleep.

Spock soon followed her.

Two hours later at 05:55 Spoke awoke with his mind buzzing with the experiences of his trip to Africa: the emptiness of missing Nyota, his inability to communicate his feelings to her from afar, the talk with his mother, meeting the elephants, discussing officially bonding, the fear link, Romulan engineers, torturous mind melds, and meeting Nyota's family -- especially meeting her brother.

...Jabari had acknowledged Nyota as belonging to Spock...

It was a profound feeling. He wanted to wake Nyota that moment and celebrate in an appropriate fashion. He looked at her sleeping form, calculated the sleep she had received in the last twenty-four hours, subtracted it from the amount of sleep she required and decided meditation was in order instead. Sitting up he wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, arranged himself cross-legged facing the door, and set his internal alerts to bring him out should Nyota awake or the door opened.

x x x x x x x x

It was Nyota's stirring that brought him out of his trance. "Good morning," he said letting his eyes flutter open.

"Hey, you. You're done..." Small brown arms encircled his chest from behind. Cool lips nibbled his ears. "So, ummm...Spock, you get intoxicated by chocolate?"

He didn't answer her right away. Instead he disentangled from her embrace and pushed her over onto her back. Slipping the left cup of her bra down beneath her breast he bent over and gently nipped one chocolate brown nipple. "I would have thought you would have noticed by now." Giving the nipple one long lick he looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.

Her mouth stretched into a delicious smile. "Mmmmmm...and what happens when you mix the impulses of a twenty-six year old Vulcan with chocolate?"

"Would you like a demonstration?" He moved up so the full length of his body was pressed against hers. Pushing against her with his hips he made sure she knew exactly what sort of demonstration they were discussing. He put his fingers to her temples. She was aroused and buzzing inside with suppressed laughter. It was a wonderful sensation.

His mate. There was no reason to hold back.

x x x x x x x x

Afterwards lying in their combined tangle of limbs and afterglow Nyota gently bit his bottom lip. She smiled. "I'm so glad you and Jabari got along."

Why were they discussing her brother now? "The expression 'got along' may be a bit of an exaggeration." Spock noted.

"I'm so glad you and Jabari didn't kill each other." She nibbled on one of his ears. Suddenly, she pulled back, "Let's look at the present he gave me!"

Spock was actually rather hoping she would continue nibbling on his ears. He suppressed a slightly annoyed sigh.

Nyota leaned over and pulled the globe from the night stand.

Holding the small apple sized sphere between them she said, _"Begin"_ in Romulan.

Suddenly, the sphere seemed to expand so it was the size of a small soccer ball. Nyota let it go in surprise and the sphere hovered above the bed. In reality it had not expanded, its new circumference was just light. All along this surface of light were little rectangles -- most contained pictures of Romulans in strange garb making exaggerated faces. One little rectangle contained text. Some strange, and in Spock's estimation, not particularly interesting music started to hum from the sphere.

Nyota gingerly touched one of the little rectangles and suddenly all the others vanished and a scene materialized within the sphere. Spock and Nyota watched fascinated.

It soon became apparent that they were watching a dramatization of the _T'Kai Lamana Ita. _Reworked so it was no longer poetic and apparently re-imagined on a modern Romulas, but the story line was apparent. Also...

"Wow, either these are really bad actors or..." Nyota said.

"...Romulans act in a severely affected fashion."

"This seems so...campy."

Spock checked his internal dictionary. _Campy: __An affectation or appreciation of manners and tastes commonly thought to be artificial, vulgar, or banal. _Romulan art was generally not thought of in these terms...perhaps this was just a glaringly bad example? Might this be the reason it was relegated to a trash heap?

Nyota giggled, "I think I could become addicted to this though. It's...silly. Whoa, I don't think the actor was supposed to trip just there. Wow, they didn't even bother to Holoshop it out..."

She giggled again. "I can't wait to watch it...but I better take a shower now. I smell like smoke..." She looked at Spock. "What happened last night. I seem to draw a blank between meeting some Orions and leaving the Nebula."

Spock stared at her. He couldn't lie to her...but he really did not want to repeat the whole story.

Her face got serious. "Do I not want to know?"

Spock nodded. "The whole story is not necessary, but you were in danger. If you ever meet an Orion you do not know outside an official function be suspicious. If they are smoking depart immediately."

"Oh." She knew the implications of what he had just said. She leaned forward and kissed him. "Thank you for looking out for me."

"It is my job...and your brother's too, apparently," he conceded.

"Yeah," she smiled. "Ain't he great?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. She raised one back and then she walked to the shower leaving Spock with the Romulan sphere.

Although not at all interested in the dramatization he was interested in the technology. It was vaguely familiar, but seemed slightly more advanced than similar Vulcan devices. Odd.

With some tinkering he was able to get it back to the original rectangles...a scene selection grid he guessed. He selected the rectangle of text. The sphere flickered and production notes appeared. What got Spock's eye was the date. According to the notes this drama had been created twenty years in the future. It must be a mistake; Spock decided...they didn't bother to fix the actor's trip either. Obviously, very low production standards.

He tinkered a bit more and managed to turn off the sphere. The technology was interesting, even if the contents of the sphere were flawed. He would investigate it further at the lab with Nyota's approval.

He got up and prepared to pack his belongings for his transport home in the afternoon. It was unfortunate that this trip hadn't revealed a discovery as exciting as the banana slug.


	52. Do The Right Thing

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Trek or any of the Characters below**

Do the Right Thing

The night he returned from Africa Spock had his normally scheduled call with his mother.

"You look better than last time we spoke, Spock."

"Thank you, Mother. You look well also."

"Any news for me...about things you've done over the break..." His mother hesitated for a moment and looked closely at Spock. He was unsure if he should say anything about Africa. If he told her he made the trip it would be a de facto admission of his romantic relationship. It would be a rather painless way to divulge it he supposed. Would it make her worried? Obviously, being involved with a student was a less than optimal situation. Jabari had certainly worried about his sister...

"...or what you're planning for the next semester?" his mother asked.

Talking about research was easier than talking about romantic relationships. He took the opening his mother provided without looking back. "Cadet Uhura and I will be able to begin our research on the Sol System." Spock replied.

"Ah, Cadet Uhura. I did enjoy her paper on the _T'Kai Lamana Ita."_

Spock's mother had always been a fan of the epic poem, so he had pointed out Nyota's paper when it had been published.

"It has been funny how many eyebrows have been raised here by the work of a Cadet," his mother continued. "There are people here who think her ideas have merit. I think it just took a human to say it...no Vulcan could be that daring. Some of the older Vulcans have taken up the banner. Ostensibly to prove the point wrong, but you know how indirect Vulcans can be while claiming all the time to be more direct than humans.

"The Vulcan Science Academy had been working on more sophisticated computer models of proto-Vulcan and proto-Romulan brains for a while. They have sped up their efforts, just to make sure they can respond logically to those who might fancy a biologic reason for the Romulan Vulcan divide. Results of their preliminary analysis should be forthcoming in just a few days...although they won't be made public I should hear about them from your father."

"I'm sure Cadet Uhura would be very interested in hearing about their discoveries." Spock replied. Even if they were preliminary, and therefore somewhat suspect_ he _would be interested in hearing about them too.

His mother visibly brightened, "Yes, I imagine she would. You know, I would love to speak to her about it."

Spock had met Nyota's parents without incident and in a purely professional capacity, this seemed harmless. And it had the potential to make both his mother and Nyota happy.

"Since it is an academic matter I don't see any reason why you can't contact her by subspace signal in the lab...and I'm interested in knowing the preliminary findings as well. Cadet Uhura will be returning to San Francisco in three days...I will talk to her about arranging a time that fits her schedule when the semester begins."

"Ah yes, an academic matter...yes, that would make perfect sense of course, Spock." Her face was serious for a moment, then relaxed a bit. "Your father has read the paper too, of course. Although he does not agree with the implications, he felt that the ideas were novel and the logic internally consistent."

Spock's eyebrows went up. "That is more open minded than I would have expected of him."

"Why is that Spock? Your father has gone against the current in Vulcan society before. He has even broken the rules on occasion -- the man married a human after all." She said this with a smile.

Spock stifled a tinge of annoyance. Yes, his father...the original mad dog.

"I am sure his reasons for marrying you were very logical, mother."

His voice was flat, but his mother understood the bitterness behind the words.

Her brows furrowed together and her lips got tight. "It better well have been logical...marriage cannot survive without shared goals, shared interests, understanding and a genuine enjoyment of one another's company beyond the physical."

Her voice softened, "This doesn't preclude the existence of love...far from it. If your father's inability to articulate his feeling for you and I..."

"And yet when he arranged my bond to T'Pring he thought logic alone was sufficient."

"Your bond to T'Pring was a mistake. We were told that you had Vulcan physiology and emotions, but only human control. He was worried that you would experience a full Pon Farr in your teens and with the intensity of a fully mature Vulcan for that reason...he didn't want you to _die._ She was a very poor match -- but all he could arrange."

"Due to my deficiencies."

"He has never seen you as deficient, Spock."

Spock's father had been there to lecture him on the merits of logic after he had become violent at school. His father had seen his reaction to the Vulcan Science Academy board -- it was impossible for Sarek not to have seen the anger when Spock declined the invitation. And these were only two examples...there had been others. His father had been there during or right after his greatest losses of control. His father who espoused logic. How could he not see Spock as deficient?

"If he does not see me as deficient why has he not accepted my decision to join Star Fleet?" Spock asked willing himself not to clench his teeth.

His mother sighed. "He has always been worried that you wouldn't be challenged enough. And you really weren't in your first years there. It's probably only thanks to your Vulcan nature that you didn't get into mischief out of sheer boredom."

Spock considered this; he had actually gotten into some mischief of the feminine variety in his cadet years.

Amanda smiled softly. "Even now, if I tell him that your subspace simulation transmitter blows a fuse he gets indignant about faulty equipment holding you back from your full potential. He does wish you'd try to make amends and join the Vulcan Science Academy...it is only logical that he wants the best for his brilliant son."

"I suppose equipment at the Vulcan Science Academy never is faulty." He replied dryly.

His mother laughed. "Well, much less often. Twice your simulator had gone down in one year -- twice!"

He had to concede her point there...it wouldn't have happened twice on Vulcan.

She gave a tight smile and returned to the previous topic, "Love can, and should be logical Spock."

x x x x x x

There were three days after his call with his mother before Nyota came back to San Francisco, and five days before the start of the semester. Nyota's absence wasn't as painful knowing she would be back soon, but his mother's comments started something brewing in his mind.

Was his love for Nyota logical? If he pulled it apart it seemed that really the only thing that was illogical was the timing. In two and a half more years their relationship would not break any rules. Although it would be a poor time to begin a relationship since she planned on entering the fleet. After only a few weeks of courtship he doubted she would acquiesce to a mind meld. But in two and a half years she would be ready, and after a mind meld distance would mean so much less...

So breaking the rules served a logical purpose, but was breaking the rules completely logical?

His mind went back to his conversations with Jabari. What had Jabari said, _"if I was a really good person, I would dedicate my life to reforming the beast"_. Instead of trying to fix Federation laws Jabari chose not to miss out on immediate opportunities.

Was Spock not Jabari on just a smaller scale? Like Jabari, he had logical reasons for his behavior. But it didn't fix the underlying problem.

And so it was that the appeals to logic of his mother, of all people, and the moral musings of a pirate caused Spock to question his choices...and he not come to a satisfactory answer by the time Nyota arrived home.

**A/N:**  
I kind of feel that Jabari is a little more honest than Spock. I wasn't sure if that came out. Jabari knows what he is. Spock...I'm not so sure about.


	53. Busted

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Trek or any of the Characters below**

Busted

His feelings had not changed. But in her absence the logical part of his mind had gone off and wandered in new directions.

Nonetheless, whatever his unease when Nyota walked through his door, smiling, arms outstretched, logic was momentarily forgotten. He let her catch him in a hug and his forehead pressed against hers without conscious thought. Her hands reached up and clutched his cheeks, and she began battering him with kisses. When he brought his fingers to link and found her happiness he let himself be lost in her emotions.

He quickly found himself on the couch, her legs over his lap, one of his hands between her knees, the other on her temples.

She told him about her last days with her family, and he filled her in with the latest details of his life as well.

"Commander Sharpton has suggested a few changes to my first draft, but has said we should proceed with the investigation of the Sol System."

"Awwww....does this mean that I don't get to be on your back?" Nyota said with a smile.

Feeling the link buzz and his ears flush Spock replied, "I am sure you will always find some reason to be on my back..."

That earned him a very satisfying nip on the ear.

There was something else she would be very interested in knowing...

"The Vulcan Science Academy has developed some computer models of proto-Romulan and proto-Vulcan brains. They will be revealing some of their preliminary findings in the next few days to members of the Academy -- the results won't be made public. But my father will hear of them, and my mother has offered to pass them along."

"Really? You didn't tell me about this..."

He felt excitement through the link.

"It was my mother who informed me a few days ago. She knows of it due to her connection to my father. She expressed interest in talking to you about your paper and informing us both of their findings. I suggested that since it is an academic matter we all have an interest in that she contact us in the lab."

Through the link he felt _apprehension..._

"What troubles you?" he asked Nyota.

"I feel a little strange about talking to your mother I guess. I know you met my parents, and it didn't seem to bother you that they didn't know..."

"But it did bother you," Spock acknowledged.

"Yes. It does bother me that I can't talk to them about you...I'm anxious about meeting your mother. I might give us away...Freudian slip, or just...I don't know."

Ah. Before his mother's discussion on logic he was inclined to think his mother's knowledge of their situation might be a good thing. After all, despite the hostility between himself and Nyota's brother it had been...gratifying...to be acknowledged by someone in her family. But if his mother saw their relationship as illogical...

While thinking these thoughts he grew silent for a few moments. He felt a gentle nudge in his consciousness. Nyota was bumping back.

"Something is troubling you too."

"My mother said something interesting in our last phone call, something I would not have suspected from her...she said that love should be logical." He had no trouble using the word love in a sentence relating facts. He could also use it when reading poetry. It was only in the active sense, direct "I love", "I miss" or "I want" that he had difficulty articulating.

"Your mother is your human parent, right?"

It took a moment for Spock to realize she was making a joke...she was trying to ease the tension he was now feeling in their link.

"Up until a few days ago I thought so," Spock replied and felt some of the tension abate...Humor was so wonderfully useful. Perhaps he should experiment with it among his other human acquaintances?

"I have reflected on it," he continued, "And the only thing remotely illogical I can find is the timing..." He added.

"We do get along well," Nyota said with a smile. "Personally...romantically...professionally...Together and in groups."

Across the link he felt...

_Happiness..._

He wanted just to be happy, to relax in memories of the times they'd spent alone...and also in their associations with colleagues, the night out with Brian, even their time with her brother -- but he felt compelled to finish his thought. "We are breaking the rules of Star Fleet."

He felt a spike of fear from the link.

"I know you like rules," Nyota said her lips tight.

_Tension _raced across the link.

He tried to project calm, but it didn't seem to have any effect on Nyota.

Spock tilted his head. "I appreciate logical rules, Nyota. I actually find the conflict between the written and unwritten rules of Star Fleet highly confusing and illogical. And I see problems with both sets of rules when analyzed separately."

_Relief _came from the link.

"Nonetheless, I am concerned that by not working towards reforming the rules we are contributing to the problem."

_Fear_...and _anger_ came through his fingertips.

He sat up straighter and looked at Nyota. Her eyes were flashing. "Please do not tell me you having doubts now. If you are not one hundred percent behind this I can't do it."

It was Spock's turn to feel fear. He pulled back his fingers from her temples, not wishing a fear loop to develop.

Nyota snapped. "If you are suddenly going to get all filled with angst let me know so I can get out of here."

She pulled her legs up to her chest so they no longer draped over his lap.

They were not linked or even touching. Spock swallowed.

The jumble that was Star Fleets rules, written and unwritten were not logical. He did understand the rules in so much as they applied to instructors when they were actively teaching...or even typically in cases of assitantships -- but wasn't Nyota more of a colleague than an assistant?

After that things, broke down...Especially since the rules were in practice 'don't ask, don't tell' as Brian had noted. It would be better to tell. Then if a relationship had the potential to color an instructors observations of a former student they could be excused from contributing to that student's evaluations. It would protect the student, Star Fleet, and Star Fleet's personnel.

He believed in rules as they applied to protecting others. But the Star Fleet Academy written and unwritten rules on fraternization did the opposite.

Still, the greater good would be in fixing the rules, not defying them. But...she was his bond mate now.

He tried to lighten the mood. "Nyota, dwelling in angst would be quite un-Vulcan."

It would have been better to be direct.

"Yes, so is breaking the rules," she responded, her voice heated.

"And I still believe our situation is internally logical."

"Then why the sudden 'We're breaking the rules' and 'it would be better to reform them'?" Nyota asked sharply. "If we worked to reform the rules now we'd have to end our relationship in the meantime."

He composed himself and remained calm, even though the thought of loosing her made him feel like a knife had been sliced across his abdomen. "I am not suggesting we end our relationship. It is just something that occurred to me in the last few days. Between my conversation with my mother about logic and ironically, with your brother about right and wrong, I began to question my actions."

It was as if she didn't hear him.

"Well what are you suggesting?" She tilted her head her hands flew in the air between them. "We were just talking about bonding...now you're discussing the rules as if you've just discovered them. I don't want to ride a roller coaster."

Spock tilted his head. He had just said he did not want to end the relationship. Roller coaster?

"I don't like breaking the rules. I hate risking my career and I _hate_ the secrecy." Nyota snapped.

Just then Spock's communicator went off. "Incoming message from Vulcan. Amanda Grayson."

This was not a normally scheduled call. He took a sharp short intake of breath and searched his conscious for any sort of ill ease from his father...all seemed well...unless his current state of unrest was making him unable to detect disturbances.

"Nyota, that is my mother. It is not her usually scheduled call. Something is wrong." Perhaps it was only psychological? He needed to be certain.

Nodding at him, Nyota sighed heavily and rested her chin on her knees.

Spock went to the book case and unfolded his communicator monitor and console. This little monitor obviously didn't connect to subspace directly, there was a relay station at Star Fleet. The signal was translated there to normal frequencies. It created lag that was perceptible, but generally tolerable.

Setting down the communicator on the table Nyota called the 'interrogation table' Spock turned the camera so Nyota couldn't be seen and accepted the message.

"Hello Spock."

"Hello Mother, what is wrong."

"I wanted to ask you something on our last call, and I just didn't quite get up the courage...our call didn't go completely well...and I..."

"Yes, mother?" Spock asked abruptly. He wanted to get back to Nyota -- apparently no one had died or been incapacitated unexpectedly after all.

Amanda began slowly in the very professional, unemotional voice she used when trying not to upset him. "It is probably just my imagination...but I've wondered if you've become involved with your assistant, Cadet Uhura. Please do not be offended. I know it would break the rules of Star Fleet."

As soon as she said 'break the rules' Nyota stood up.

Amanda continued in the same flat voice, "And I know you probably consider the whole idea completely illogical because you are an instructor, she is a student, and it would endanger both your careers..."

Nyota started backing towards the door..

"But I've wondered. And...it is just that I worry..." his mother took a deep breath.

Spock looked up. He had seen a nature holo where a gazelle had paused just as it spied a lion...and then leapt away in a flash to evade the carnivore. Nyota had the same look in her eyes as the gazelle. She looked like she was going to run. Spock reached out his hand below the camera, trying to motion for her to stay. Nyota shook her head and started to slip on her shoes.

The words that came out next were _not_ in the flat tone she used to talk to Vulcans, they came out as pure Amanda, fast, with heavy inflection. "...I worry that if I talk to her in your office I might just blurt out and ask her if she enjoyed meeting the elephants."

Glancing up he saw Nyota freeze in place. Spock was desperate enough to gamble.

"Perhaps you should ask her that question now, Mother."


	54. Bad Timing & Logical Choices

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Trek or any of the Characters below**

**Bad Timing and Logical Choices**

"She's there? I thought she might be!" His mother was smiling as she said it. She looked overjoyed in fact.

He had never been as happy about his mother's emotive capacity as he did in that moment. He had heard that humans could discern a smile just from vocal inflection alone. He hoped it was so. He looked up at Nyota.

She was standing with her arms across her chest in the doorway with an unreadable expression on her face. Her eyes darted between Spock and the monitor.

Spock was still sitting but his eyes were on Nyota.

"Is now a bad time?" Amanda asked.

Nyota looked at the floor. "No, now is the perfect time."

"What?" asked Amanda.

Spock looked at the monitor. "She says now is acceptable, Mother."

He stood up and offered his hand to Nyota as she sat down. It wasn't a motion of gallantry; he just wanted to re-establish the link. He felt her nervousness and relief as his fingers slid against hers.

Bringing a chair around he sat down so that both of their faces were in the view frame of the camera. "Mother, I would like to introduce you to Cadet Nyota Uhura, Nyota I would like to introduce you to my mother, Amanda Grayson."

"Nice to meet you," said Nyota, oddly shy.

"It is so nice to finally meet _you_." His mother beamed. "I'm so sorry if I didn't sound friendly before, I really expected him to tell me I was being illogical."

x x x x x x x x

After a few minutes of listening to the conversation between his mother and Nyota Spock went into the kitchen and started preparing dinner -- for two. He hoped it wasn't an erroneous assumption.

There was a counter between Nyota and where he was working so he could observe her expression. The phone call seemed to be going very well. It was amazing how quickly they could slip from formal niceties to personal intimacies. His mother already knew how he had met Nyota, at least the first meeting of significance...he'd told her. Did she really need Nyota's perspective?

"...yes, he seemed so intimidating," said Nyota. "But he went through all this trouble to discover the rest of the transmission...I thought it was so thoughtful of him. Of course he said it was just to prove me wrong."

"I assure you, Nyota," Spock interjected, "My only motive was to prove you wrong."

"He was really nice about it when I turned out to be right...that the transmission was really something after all," Nyota said.

"I was not nice. I was logical. It is logical to admit ones mistakes." Spock said swirling some chopped ginger with soy sauce, vinegar and sugar in a bowl.

Nyota looked up at him somberly for a moment.

Amanda piped in, "Sometimes their logic isn't such a bad thing."

"I suppose not..." Nyota said.

"Must I remind you, Nyota, we still do not know what the transmission really is..." Spock began.

"But we get to spend the whole semester finding out!" said Nyota grinning at him.

It would be very un-Vulcan to sigh...It would be very un-Vulcan to sigh...

"Did I just hear a Vulcan sigh?" asked Amanda. Sadly, he could hear the amusement in her voice.

"I think he's going to be wrong. It will be a genuine Romulan transmission -- Descartes Error _again_," said Nyota conspiratorially to his mother's image on the screen.

Spock started dicing some tofu with slightly more force than was necessary. "We are speaking Federation Standard. Not Romulan. If the Romulans had been here..."

"Nyota and I would have pointy ears too?" asked his mother.

Nyota laughed. Then put her head in her hands. "I probably am crazy...during the time frame the transmission was received the Romulan empire was expanding and laying bloody ruin to every civilization they encountered...it is pretty unlikely that they were here...but if you could hear the sadness in the Romulan's voice when he says, 'Switching to subspace'..."

"Hmmmm...well, it sounds like you have a while before you learn anything more about that mystery for a while." His mother wisely switched the subject. "I did hear from Sarek, Spock's father, on another mystery you've pondered though..."

Nyota sat up straighter in her chair. Was it Spock's imagination or had her ears physically perked?

"The results are preliminary...but...it appears there is no physical differences in the regions of the proto-Romulan and Vulcan brains in the areas responsible for processing logic and emotions..." Amanda said this slowly, Spock realized she was trying not to hurt Nyota's feelings.

Nyota's shoulders sagged a bit. Spock put down what he was doing and went to sit next to Nyota. He slipped two fingers into hers. The disappointment she felt slipped through the link. He squeezed her fingers.

"However, it does appear that there are differences in the regions responsible for communication and telepathy," His mother finished.

Excitement flashed through their finger link. Nyota's face visibly brightened.

"You seem to be very happy about that tidbit of news," said his mother.

Spock spoke, "Nyota has a theory that when there is telepathy, the display of emotions is not as necessary for interaction between members of a species."

His mother could be logical. "Betazeds are telepaths, but they practically revel in emotional displays."

Nyota said, "But Betazed telepathy does not require touch, so they really _can't_ hide their emotions."

"The Betazed environment is more benign than Vulcan's too," Spock postulated. "It has been theorized that harsh environments tend to create violent territorial cultures."

The link flashed with happiness and excitement. Nyota said, "Yes, that is true...Vulcans might have to hide their emotions if they tend towards the violent and territorial...

When she said the word 'territorial' Spock noticed his mother adjusting her sleeves...and her eyes went back and forth between him and Nyota, although not unkindly. Spock looked at Nyota, if she'd noticed his mother's gesture she hid it very well.

"...it is hard to be peaceful with your neighbor if you display such feelings outwardly," Nyota said. "Still, with individuals they care about Vulcans have an invisible connection, an emotional vent.

"Humans and Romulans don't have the benefit of that connection. We have to get by however well we can communicating our emotions verbally and physically. And sometimes we display too much...it can be hard to shut them off. And since we need to show our emotions to reinforce our bonds to those close to us, it might actually be detrimental to shut them off."

"Its an interesting theory..." said Amanda. She smiled, "I can see why Spock likes you, Nyota." Then she winked at Spock. "Logical choice, Spock. You are your father's son after all."

Spock would have raised a disapproving eyebrow, but he was momentarily engrossed by the picture in the monitor. His mother's smiling face filled the entire screen except for the tiny inset where he could see himself and Nyota, their shoulders pressed together. Illogically, the moment seemed to hang in time -- his mother's wide smile, Nyota's widening grin and his face flat and unemotional.

He was actually very happy. He kept his hand on Nyota's, to be sure she knew.

x x x x x x x x

After they switched off the comm Nyota said, "You know Spock, for a cold emotionless Vulcan, sometimes you have rather good ideas." The link was buzzing, but even without it he knew that this was a joke. She was trying to release the tension they'd felt earlier.

He didn't know what to say, he just pressed his forehead against hers. Perhaps she would stay for dinner.

Nyota moved from her chair and repositioned herself on his lap. That seemed promising.

With one hand he linked with her fingers, his other hand wrapped around her waist.

"You kind of went off on a logical tangent earlier, and then I went off on an emotional tangent...sorry about that. When you took the link away, I really felt like you were retreating."

"I did not want to cause another fear loop," he said.

"Oh." She kissed his forehead absently. "I think I would rather have felt your fear than feel nothing. Sometimes even I can't read you."

She sighed. "And I'm not crazy about our timing either...breaking the rules puts me on edge...That probably set me off a bit. I'm a good student. I don't do this sort of thing..."

"Nor I," said Spock.

They were quiet for a long time.

"You are right, you know...it was ironic that my brother put you on that tangent." The link buzzed although she wasn't laughing. She sighed. "And you're right about the other part too...It is better to reform instead of evade. But it takes so damn long..."

"And the only opportunity we have is right now." Spock finished.

"You know, it doesn't have to be either or. We'd actually stand a much better shot at pushing our point if we were _both_ distinguished graduates. After we've proven that it didn't hinder our ability to perform admirably and make rational decisions."

"That is actually...logical." Spock replied.

Nyota took a deep breath. "It would be better if I wasn't your assistant."

"I have considered you more of a colleague than an assistant for quite some time now." Spock said lowering his head. Was he rationalizing?

"Yes, but no one else will. The rules have to be drawn somewhere. In most cases, prohibiting relationships between instructors and the students they are actively teaching and assistants makes sense."

"I accept the logic of your position." Spock said. He would miss her in the lab, but as long as he could see her here...

She pulled away and looked him the eyes. "But I can't quit until we finish the Sol System and discover just what sort of Romulan neuvo-Piltdown man crank transmission maker I've discovered!"

Spock blinked. "Does that mean that you want to curtail our activities until..."

"No." She kissed him. "And yes, I realize that isn't logical. But _I'm_ human. "

He would have accepted it if she had said 'Yes.' He wouldn't have liked it. Actually, he really wouldn't have liked it. He raised an eyebrow. "I am relieved to know you are not forsaking me for your Romulan neuvo-Piltdown boyfriend."

Nyota laughed and his fingers buzzed.

"You will be staying for dinner, then?" He asked.

"And more, I hope." She shifted in his lap, and gently nuzzled an ear. "Seems the perfect time for make-up sex."

Spock tightened his hands around her waist. "I have heard the expression. It is a ritualistic human bonding activity is it not?"

"I would say so," said Nyota slipping her hands down and gently pulling on his sweater.

"I am a great believer in abiding by rituals," Spock whispered bringing his lips to hers.

**A/N:**

Not as melodramatic as you might have hoped...but I hope it was natural.

I keep reading "And the Rest is Rust and Stardust" over and over again. It is just the best Kirk/Uhura story ever (with implied Spock longing for Kirk). It is a beautiful love triangle -- where they actually all love each other...but not all in _that_ way. (So, no, Uhura doesn't do them both at once).

/s/5347458/1/And_the_Rest_is_Rust_and_Stardust ... or just go to my favorites.

Love reviews...they help keep me writing.


	55. Back Under the Microscope

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Trek or any of the Characters below**

**Back Under the Microscope  
**  
Spock had never not wanted to go back to work. But after the freedom of Africa, and spending the last five days before spring semester with Nyota going back to the Academy felt like returning to a cage.

Maintaining professionalism was one thing, but even the idea of having to completely conceal his relationship with Nyota was tiring. And, of course he was not as excited about the subject of this semesters research. He still thought it would have been more logical to explore a system that needed portable subspace reception more urgently.

There were however, two people he was looking forward to seeing. And he had something interesting to show them -- with Nyota's permission of course.

"Cool," said Patrick.

_"Sugoi, ne,"_ agreed Toshi.

"The technology is fascinating," said Spock.

Nyota giggled. "But the acting is sooooooooo bad."

They were watching a scene of the drama in the Romulan sphere in Spock's lab.

"Not to mention the production values," said Patrick. "Did a piece of the backdrop just fall down?"

"I believe so..." replied Toshi.

"The technology is really advanced though..." Patrick said, "I've seen hovering, and I've seen holo light shows...but...there doesn't appear to be a real projector. The voice activation, and the ability to read touch in the light sphere..." His face wrinkled in a look of disgust. "Oh geesh...I don't even speak Romulan and I can just tell what that guy said was corny as hell."

"My mother-in-law watches similar dramas," sighed Toshi.

"Awww guys, it is corny, but that's what makes it fun!" said Nyota.

Patrick looked at Nyota. "Where did you say your brother got this again?"

"In a trash heap on an asteroid," replied Nyota.

"A trash heap?" said Toshi.

"I think the general quality of the drama can explain why it was relegated to disposal," said Spock.

"But the technology is so cool," said Patrick.

"Indeed," said Spock. "To us, it is advanced. But to the previous owners it may have been nothing unusual."

"Does it have some sort of production date?" asked Toshi.

"That's the weird thing..." said Nyota shaking her head.

Spock said, "Yes, they seem to have put in an erroneous date in the production notes -- this drama is dated as being produced twenty years in the future."

"Hmm," said Toshi.

"Weird," said Patrick.

"Nyota," said Toshi, "What asteroid belt did your brother say he got this from?"

"He didn't," Nyota replied.

"But it's Romulan, so it must have been somewhere on the edge of Romulan space..." said Toshi.

Patrick looked up at her, "Which probably means the belt that is in the neutral zone closest the Romulan empire...What exactly does your brother do again?"

Spock tilted his head and looked at Nyota. She looked Patrick directly in the eye, gave an enormous smile, lifted her eyebrows and batted her eyelashes. "He's a pirate!"

Spock looked at Patrick.

The other man put his hands on his hips and snorted in laughter. "Yeah, yeah. Very funny -- you know this assistant of yours has a lot of cheek, Spock."

She told the truth and made it look like a joke. Fascinating. Spock looked at Nyota admiringly for a moment. He turned to look back at the sphere and caught Toshi staring at him.

Patrick grumbled, "So either the production values are just really bad...or the geniuses in the future -- instead of sending us back something really useful like a cloaking device that maintains invisibility while allowing the firing of photon torpedoes...sent us a bad Romulan soap opera."

"Time traveling soaps would be more exciting, but I think we're seeing poor production values," sighed Toshi.

"Agreed," said Patrick. He lifted a special tricorder that he'd brought for this occasion. "Lets just scan it and see if the deterioration of the circuitry inside gives us an idea of how old it really is...if it has circuitry we can get a reading on."

The tricorder beeped. Nyota, Toshi, Spock and Patrick all crammed to look at the screen.

"Whoa...really weird..." said Patrick.

"That can't be right," said Nyota.

"Perhaps we need to run diagnostics on the tricorder?" asked Spock.

"One-hundred and five years old...Impossible," murmured Toshi. "To accurately date the sphere we'll obviously need to take it apart and study it."

Suddenly Nyota shouted in Romulan, _"End now."_ The sphere flickered off, Nyota reached out and grabbed it protectively. "You can't take it apart, my brother gave it to me!"

"Awww...Cadet," said Patrick, "We'll put it back together again."

"If we can." added Toshi cheerfully.

Nyota's eyes got wide. "No!"

Patrick and Toshi shifted uncomfortably and Spock tensed. He had convinced Nyota to bring the sphere in to the Academy today, and invited Patrick and Toshi to have a look at it. Technically, because she had brought it onto the Academy grounds it could be confiscated at his or Patrick's discretion.

"Lieutenant Spock and I should really get back to our survey of the Sol System," said Nyota changing the subject fast. Taking the sphere she headed over to one of the consoles.

Patrick followed Nyota. "Can't you let us borrow it? It's in the interest of science."

"No," said Nyota.

For a moment Spock was worried that Patrick might try to pull rank. What came out of the Lieutenant Commander's mouth next made Spock realize just how little he understood human behavior.

"Pretty please with sugar on top?" said the Lieutenant-Commander clasping his hands in front of him.

Nyota blinked at Patrick. "No!"

"How is your survey of the Sol System going, Spock?" asked Toshi turning away from Nyota and Patrick.

"Well at the moment it isn't going," snapped Nyota as Patrick leaned over her and tried to snatch up the sphere from where it was sitting next to her. She grabbed it quickly and transferred it to a drawer beneath the console. Shutting the drawer with a bang she looked at him and hissed, "It's locked...don't even try it."

"Awww....Mom...." whined Patrick with a wink. Then he turned to Spock, "Yeah, how is it going? It is amazing that you found that transmission in the first place, Spock."

"Really, Spock, it is amazing you were able to uncover something so interesting out of all those archived recordings." added Toshi.

Spock saw Nyota's shoulders tighten and her brow furrow. Why did this keep happening? "In point of fact I did not discover the recording. Cadet Uhura discovered it -- from no more than a single, barely audible syllable. I would have missed it. I did miss it. She had me listen to the recording three times before I recognized it."

Nyota shot him a small smile, but her shoulders were still tight.

"Commander Sharpton said..." Toshi began.

"She often misspeaks on this matter," said Spock. "And I often correct her."

Patrick turned to Nyota, "Uhura, I'm sorry. I didn't know. Excellent find."

"It's okay, its happened before..." she said and shrugged, her shoulders remained tight, her brows still were furrowed.

Patrick gave her a gentle pat on the back, "No, its not okay. It sucks when someone else gets credit for your work."

Nyota turned her head and looked at Patrick. All the tension seemed to leave her shoulders and she smiled at him. Just a touch did more than words for her. And it hadn't been his touch. Spock stared. He understood this wasn't a pass on Patrick's part and he wasn't so primitive he thought Nyota saw it as anything more than friendly...at the same time he realized why his people discouraged touching between non-bonded pairs. He wanted to go over and knock the hand away...thankfully Patrick let it drop. But Patrick was still standing much too close.

"Yeah, it does suck. But I couldn't have found the entire recording without Lieutenant Spock...and its only with his big brain that I'll be able to see if it actually is more than a two hundred year old prank. It's actually why I became the Lieutenant's assistant."

"Ahhh...you have something you are passionate about...No wonder you managed to stand being his assistant for so long," said Toshi with a grin...Spock realized by now this was 'good natured ribbing'. He raised an eyebrow at Toshi.

Patrick looked at Spock, "I wish I had an assistant that was as passionate about her research as yours Spock. Care to share her?"

"No," said Spock flatly.

"Oh come on, Professor Matsumura, Lieutenant Spock's a good boss. He is always fair and gives credit where credit is due," said Nyota.

"And he's so warm and cuddly," said Patrick.

"My basal metabolic rate does assure that I am warm, Lieutenant Commander," replied Spock.

"Is that the line you use at bars?" asked Patrick.

Toshi laughed.

Nyota coughed and said, "Lieutenant Spock, would you like to come take a look at these transmissions that were received at the station near Venus? There is a lot of data for the last solar minimum there."

"Actually, I think Yuki would find a higher basal metabolic rate an attractive feature," said Toshi.

"Excuse me Patrick, I need to look over Cadet Uhura's shoulder," said Spock finally seeing a reason to make the other man move.

"Sure, I'll get out of your way here, Spock," said Patrick moving away from Nyota. "Yeah, Katie's feet are always ice cold at night and she's always stealing the damn covers." Patrick ambled over to Toshi and the two headed towards the door. "Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad pickup line. Ever use it Spock?"

Passing his fingers deliciously close to Nyota's on the console keypad Spock didn't even bother to look up. "No."

Toshi made a half laugh half coughing noise.

Patrick snorted. "Nah, of course you haven't. You don't notice girls. You probably haven't even noticed your _assistant_ is a girl."

Spock and Nyota both looked up and froze. Spock could calculate the circumference of a circle in his head using a value of pi correct to the twenty third decimal point, but Patrick's comment was just so amazingly off the mark it filtered through his brain as slowly as oil spilled on sand.

Then it occurred to him...Patrick and Toshi were close associates he could let his guard down just a _little._ Looking back down at the console Spock said, "Is this accusation true, Cadet Uhura? Are you, in fact, female?"

From the corner of his eye he saw Nyota assuming the affected mannerisms of one of the Romulan actresses. Putting a hand to her chest and looked dramatically upwards she said, "Oh, Lieutenant Spock, I thought you'd never notice."

Patrick, Nyota and Toshi burst out laughing.

Spock tilted his head at his own daring. It felt good to hear Patrick, Toshi and of course Nyota laughing -- and to know they weren't laughing at him. He felt a little off balance...and at the same time he felt like he fit.

* * * * * *

The sensation of his first day back, of being off balance yet belonging is what Spock felt for the first few months of the new semester.

He was still disturbed by the illogical choice in his research assignment. Commander Sharpton assured him that other teams were looking at other systems on multiple occasions -- primarily because he pointed out to her on multiple occasions that her choice was illogical. It was un-Vulcan to nag...but in the pursuit of logic he decided it was justified.

The only good thing about mapping the Sol System was that it was going quickly. He hoped in the summer he could do something more interesting, like map the subspace signatures of the Klingon system.

He played 5D chess with Toshi and Patrick. The games were getting extremely personal and brutal. They dragged him into conversations about their respective Moms. But through them he actually got out and met other chess players, in particular a fifteen year old cadet by the name of Chekov who actually beat him regularly.

He was not completely comfortable with breaking Academy fraternization rules...but he was back to being extremely comfortable in his relationship with Nyota. January, February and March went by without too many incidents. With his mother's help he even managed to navigate Valentine's Day successfully. He gave Nyota an antique Vulcan scroll of a chapter from the _T'Kai Lamana Ita._ Nyota's gift to him was something he couldn't tell his mother about.

There were issues they didn't resolve. Spock had not been aware that Nyota had been in the habit of going dancing at least once a month with her roommate Gaila and other friends. He wasn't _completely_ uncomfortable with it...

"I have absolutely no doubt in _your_ integrity, Nyota," Spock said.

"Then what do you doubt?" She asked crossing her arms over her chest.

"The integrity of 99.999% of the human males in the room and 2% of the human females. We are not even officially bonded and I..."

"Spock, hate to break it to you, but being married would not deter a large percentage of the human male population."

Spock's eyebrows shot up. It was true he realized. What was the expression he had heard from Brian? 'Yeah, she's married, but what does that have to do with me?' There were definitely reasons his father had chosen to reside with his mother on Vulcan and not on Earth.

"...better get used to it now, Spock," Nyota said in response to his expression.

He took a deep breath.

"Then I will accompany you separately. I will be there and if something happens..."

"You will not do that! That is so completely stalkerish!"

"Must I remind you of what occurred in Nairobi?" asked Spock his face merely twenty centimeters from hers.

"This isn't Nairobi, this is a Star Fleet town. There is no Orion underworld here."

"You will be accompanying your Orion room mate who has no moral quandary with abandoning you without an escort."

"When she left with Brian, she didn't leave me alone, she left me with YOU."

Spock considered that evening, it was true his motives were correct, but he was Vulcan -- and look at what had happened in the months after wards? An innocent escort home could become something much more...

"This is not reassuring to me, Nyota."

In the end Nyota went dancing. Spock went to the Academy's twenty four hour gym and took out all of his frustrations on a defenseless punching bag.

He did get two concessions: she would keep her comm on her person at all times, and after wards she would come to his apartment and spend the night with him.

As a child of a Vulcan and a human he was well aware that ongoing disagreements were to be expected, if not inevitable. So although he didn't precisely like the argument, he understood it as a normal aspect of relationships...and their relationship in general as "normal". For her part, Nyota said she thought their relationship was more normal than you could ever expect a relationship between a half-Vulcan Lieutenant instructor and his human cadet assistant to be.

They watched holos together on his couch. They went out to lunch and tea and coffee breaks during the day, as allowed by their schedules and The Rules of course. They started leaving San Francisco on day trips or short overnights to spend time together without the pressure of being observed by Star Fleet. Spock started bending a little on his stance on public displays of affection. Well, it felt like bending to him. He would let his shoulder lean against hers, or let his fingers brush across the top of her hand.

One time he even allowed this to happen on the Academy grounds.

Nyota had just come from an interview for an assistantship for the long range sensor array, she hoped to work there starting in the summer -- after they'd properly ascertained her 'Romulan boyfriend' was indeed a neuvo-Piltdown man. She was very tense, he could tell even as he approached her from behind on the packed walkway.

Striding up to her he let his fingers graze the top of the hand not clutching her PADD. She spun her head around so quickly at his touch her pony tail nearly hit a passing Cadet. Seeing the tension leave her shoulders and the smile spread across her face made the breech in protocol worth it.

They fought together a little, ate together often, tried to be there for one another always -- Nyota even listened to him 'moan on' about the illogical choice of research assignments 'about a million times a day', granted, always with a smirk. They just did all the ordinary things together that 'any human couple' would do -- and a few things that Vulcan couples did too, obviously.

And like all couples got to know each other's private idiosyncrasies and secrets...


	56. State Secrets

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock & Nyota****  
**

**State Secrets**

Nyota had idiosyncrasies.

Spock had not been aware that Nyota regularly sang in the shower if she was in there alone. It was, for the most part an endearing trait...she had a beautiful voice, although he found the acoustics peculiar -- oddly that is one of the things she liked about it. If he was really busy with something he could always put earbuds in to block out the noise.

He also had not known of a very ingrained weekly habit she had. Nyota or Nyota and Gaila would watch a sad 'sappy' holo and in order to make themselves cry. Spock wasn't sure what could possess someone to do that on purpose.

"What?" said Nyota, "It's the same as you going to the gym and beating some poor unsuspecting punching bag senseless. Girls have more of the hormone that causes tears...I try to get it out of my system so I don't lose it on someone unsuspecting like you."

...Which caused him to be silent. He didn't want to talk to about the anger and frustration that caused him to be at the gym. When he was younger he had thrown himself into martial arts to channel the anger he felt for always being an outsider. He was much less angry now, although to be a Vulcan was always to be stoking a small fire of anger somewhere inside and simultaneously suppressing it. His people were violent and territorial underneath...when Nyota was away from him in a situation he perceived as dangerous his anger at his inability to be there to protect her from threats real or imagined was overwhelming.

There were reasons his people did not touch outside of their bonds...and reasons they didn't have dance clubs, obviously.

Nyota said Spock didn't have idiosyncrasies, she said he was Vulcan. As a Vulcan he definitely had secrets.

He didn't try to hide it from Nyota precisely, but he never brought it up. And eventually she caught him with his hand in the cookie jar, or rather the peanut butter jar...well to be fair he was using a spoon, but still, it was awkward.

Nyota had gone to sleep. As was his custom Spock got dressed and slipped into the kitchen to catch up on work and have a snack. The nice thing about peanut butter compared to actual raw nuts was that it didn't roll off your spoon. He preferred almond butter, hazelnut butter -- difficult to find without chocolate, and cashew butter, but he'd eaten all of these staples.

He opened the brand new jar, sat down with a PADD to catch up on all the latest journals, and lazily began to eat. He became so engrossed in an article on the theoretical possibility of transporting at warp speeds that he didn't hear Nyota until she was almost in the kitchen.

Due to years of conditioning he automatically slipped the peanut butter jar and spoon into his lap.

"Spock, what are you doing?" Nyota asked through half lidded eyes.

For a moment he said nothing. It was difficult to talk about after a lifetime of admonishments not to share it with outsiders. He licked a bit of peanut butter off his lips.

Nyota tilted her head. "Why the guilty look?"

He looked guilty?

"What were you doing looking at porn?" she said an edge of what Spock recognized as exasperation in her voice. She was joking, but still the idea was so preposterous.

"Nyota...in the kitchen?" How incredibly unsanitary.

"Well, I hope not. What are you doing?"

Spock lifted the now quarter empty jar of peanut butter up onto the kitchen islands counter.

"You eat peanut butter from the jar?" Nyota asked quizzically. "I wouldn't have thought you the type to eat of the jar and then put it back..."

"I will not put it back."

"You're going to eat all of that?" Nyota asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"This kind of reminds me of a binge eating disorder thing a girlfriend of mine..."

"I do not have an eating disorder. I am Vulcan. We do not talk about it."

She stared at him her mouth opening slightly.

Spock looked hard at her. "You must not talk about it either. It is a matter of security. And...some delicacy..."

"So you're saying that you won't tell me why you are eating a whole jar of peanut butter because then you'll have to kill me?" she crossed her arms over her chest.

"No, I will tell you." He raised an eyebrow. "And I will not kill you."

"I am so relieved," she said unsmiling.

She didn't appreciate his humor. How unfortunate. Her laughter made these difficult subjects easier. "You have a right to know because it affects me and ultimately you."

He took a deep breath. "You are aware that Vulcan hearts beat approximately twice as fast as yours, we are nearly three times as strong due to denser muscle and bones, we sleep less, our body temperature is nearly five degrees higher than your own..."

"Yes...."

He tilted his head, "And on Earth Vulcans must maintain this temperature along with our normally more caloric intensive physiological processes?"

"Yes...oh...you need to eat because your metabolism isn't as efficient..."

Spock straightened. "In point of fact my metabolism is very efficient, it is simply that more is required of it."

"Uh-huh...so why don't you eat more at meals? I have never seen you eat more than a typical guy...actually, you eat less....Why are you hiding this?"

"It is embarrassing."

"But it is so self-explanatory," said Nyota. "It's not even weird..."

"Eventually, Nyota...it becomes difficult to control. We become ravenous...if others know they could use it against us."

"Every species gets hungry, Spock."

"Not every species requires six thousand calories a day or more for survival...we can go into a trance state to lessen our need. But with trance inhibitors we would quickly weaken and die."

"Uh-huh. Everyone dies if they don't get enough to eat. You know Spock, the only weird thing about this is that you don't talk about it...its just another secret appetite isn't it? Like the obsessive compulsive biting..."

Spock tilted his head and inhaled sharply. "I would prefer you not talk about the obsessive compulsive Vulcan territorial marking behavior either."

"Don't worry, Spock." Nyota put her hands on her hips. "So what other 'state secrets' of Vulcan are you hiding?"

Should he tell her about Ponn Far? It hadn't affected him -- and there was a good chance it never would. If she told anyone about it and it was traced back to him...to _them._..he was already an outsider...Not to mention the damage it would do to the Vulcan people.

He would wait.

"Nothing that affects you or me directly," he said truthfully.


	57. Emotional Investments

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock & Nyota**

**Emotional Investments**

By the middle of March they were almost done decoding the subspace signatures of Sol and all its planets. Spock had even come up with a formula that accommodated for the 'solar gossip' of the asteroid belt.

The afternoon he finally finished Patrick and Toshi were in his lab -- Nyota was busy in an exam. The two men reviewed Spock's calculations with him, and helped calibrate the simulators. Spock actually hadn't asked them to help him. They just showed up. He had mentioned during a chess game that this was what he would be doing that afternoon and they'd put their projects on hold.

Of course he did not mind their company or their help. Toshi and Patrick might be the odd couple, but they were regarded as among the most brilliant minds in Star Fleet. And he almost thought of them as friends.

Spock planned to run controls overnight using a number of randomly selected modern radio transmissions. If his calculations were correct the natural occurring subspace noise would be stripped from the radio transmissions leaving only the subspace signals of sentient origin.

If this worked the next step would be to strip the natural subspace noise out of the 'Romulan' radio transmission and then decode the 'Romulan' portion and translate it -- if there was anything to translate.

As they worked Commander Sharpton came in a few times. She didn't say much, just clasped her hands together and looked anxious.

Xelium stopped by too, he didn't actually ask about Spock's research though. "What, is there a party in here no one told me about?"

"There is no party Xelium...we're just helping Spock finish up here," said Toshi, not looking up from a PADD.

"It must be something exciting," said Xelium.

"There is nothing exciting to report at this time," said Spock.

"Really?" asked Xelium coming to stand behind Patrick. "Then why not send these two boys back to their labs and handle this yourself, Wunderkind?"

"Back off, and stop being a nuisance, Xelium," said Patrick.

"I just came here to ask Spock a few questions..." said Xelium.

Commander Sharpton happened to wander back into the lab at that moment. "Get out of their way Xelium."

Backing away from Patrick, Xelium's brows knitted together and his chin trembled. Then he took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry, Spock. I just have a few questions for you. Perhaps I can come back some other time?"

Spock looked up and blinked at the older man. It was the first time Xelium had ever asked him for assistance. "Of course. My door is always open...I could help you now..."

"No," said Sharpton.

"…But I appear to be under a deadline," Spock finished. Tilting his head in frustration he turned back to the console before him. He was actually ahead of schedule, but the humans around him were emotionally invested in the project and would not let up. Nyota would have been there too -- she had even tried to reschedule the exam early, but her instructor had not allowed it.

At 16:43 Spock, Patrick and Toshi finished entering the data for the controls with Commander Sharpton looking on.

"Okay, boys," Sharpton said, "Let's get out of here. If you're cleared with your wives dinner is on me."

"Sounds good," said Patrick. "Toshi and I already told Yuki and Katie we might not even make it home tonight,"

_"Hai,"_ said Toshi. "We weren't sure when we'd be done."

Spock tilted his head. There was absolutely no reason why what they'd just done this afternoon could not be done tomorrow. Humans and their emotional investments.

"Hey, Cadet Uhura should come to dinner too," said Patrick.

"Yes, Commander," said Toshi. "Lieutenant Spock has told us how she found the original transmission. She has worked for over a year on this...and I'm sure she's anxious for any opportunity to avoid dormitory food."

"Indeed," said Spock.

Commander Sharpton shook her head, "I'm sorry, it isn't very generous of me to leave her out...she did find the original transmission didn't she? Spock, where is your assistant?"

"I'm here, Commander!" said Nyota literally running into the lab and snapping to attention. "Are we ready? Can we analyze the original radio transmission for subspace signals yet?"

"At ease," said the Commander. Nyota literally bounced a few times at the Commander's words.

Spock looked at Nyota, "Cadet, as we discussed we need to run the controls first."

"But it couldn't hurt," said Nyota, "We could just take a peak and see if something is there..."

"We've already set up the controls," said Patrick. "The sneak peak can wait until tomorrow morning."

"In the meantime, Commander Sharpton has offered to take us all to dinner. Probably to Spring!" said Toshi, mentioning the name of a not inexpensive restaurant.

"You should come," said Patrick winking at Nyota, "Unless you've got a boyfriend expecting you somewhere."

Nyota rolled her eyes at Patrick's comment but did not respond.

"Has everyone ever told you you're an opportunist, Toshi?" grumbled Sharpton. "Patrick, stop flirting."

"I'm not flirting," said Patrick walking to the door, "I'm friendly."

Moving to follow Patrick, Toshi looked at Spock. "He's hopeless...but actually quite innocent."

The Commander followed them both sighing. "We'll go to Spring. I really don't feel like beer and pizza tonight."

"Aww...damn!" said Patrick from the hallway.

For a moment it was just Spock and Nyota in the lab. Her back was turned to him and she was staring at the simulators. "Cadet, we can run the sneak peak tomorrow as soon as you arrive at 09:00...I need to lock the lab."

Nyota turned and looked at him, "Oh, yeah, I'm sorry," she smiled. "I'm just so excited and so nervous Spock -- Lieutenant, excuse me." She shook her head and walked past him into the hall. Spock exited just behind her, closed the door and followed the four of them.

The start of dinner was subdued, even though Patrick did manage to immediately get his hands on some beer. Nyota in particular looked especially distracted. No one talked about the 'Romulan' transmission, which Spock thought was odd. In fact, they seemed to be avoiding the subject completely.

Fortunately, the food was good and the wine selected by Commander Sharpton was excellent. Spock imbibed freely in the reds...they had an astounding array of antioxidants and since he did not get intoxicated why hold back?

For a while the conversation hovered around the food...and then towards the end of the meal it went down a dangerous tract.

"So, Cadet Uhura, _do_ you have a boyfriend?" asked Patrick.

"I believe according to Section 13.2 article 1554 that it is harassment to even ask me that," shot Nyota giving a tight smile.

"Ouch! You have a sharp tongue," said Patrick. "I guess I should expect that from a cunning--"

Nyota held up a warning finger. "Don't even say it!"

"I believe she may have heard that line before," said Spock.

"Perhaps on multiple occasions," said Toshi.

"Cadet Uhura, if you decide to punch him in the jaw I will write it up as an accident," added the Commander

"No fair!" said Patrick. "Seriously, Cadet, I'm just wondering. And so is everyone else here...except maybe Spock because, well, he's Spock."

Spock had an urge to lift an eyebrow and quirk his lips, but kept his face completely neutral. Patrick's ability to shoot so far off the mark and yet be so close at the same time was really quite extraordinary. A special gift.

Nyota put her hands across her chest and jutted out her chin.

Toshi coughed.

The Commander rolled her eyes. "I'll write it up as an accident Cadet...just say the word."

"Its just that we're old and settled...and we're just trying to live vicariously through you," said Patrick.

"You know, Lieutenant Commander," Nyota replied, "someone has claimed that I have a 200 year old Romulan neuvo-Piltdown man as a boyfriend."

Commander Sharpton snorted a laugh. Patrick gave a single loud, "Ha!". Toshi had a fit of coughing. Spock tilted his head. Nyota had appreciated that comment...and used it to ease the tension in the current situation. He felt like he'd been truly helpful. Perhaps he could be helpful again?

"The Pinot Noir was excellent, may I have some more?" asked Spock trying to change the subject.

"How many have you had now, Spock?" asked Patrick.

"This will be my seventh glass."

"Why aren't you even a little wee-bit drunk?" asked Patrick.

"Vulcans aren't affected by Terran alcohol," said Nyota.

Commander Sharpton added, "Chocolate is intoxicating to them, but not alcohol."

Patrick looked at Spock, his face clearly distressed. "You mean at the Doris' party when I was trying to doubly impress you with both my Q Theory and my ability to drink you under the table you weren't actually getting drunk at all?"

"I was doubly impressed," said Spock. "Both by your theory and your ability to elucidate it so clearly while so heavily intoxicated."

Patrick leaned back in his chair, grinned and then laughed. "I _doubly _impressed a Vulcan!"

"You just complimented him on his ability to hold his liquor and his brain," sighed Doris. "You've got a best friend forever now Spock,"

"You know," said Patrick looking at Spock, "You're really a pretty good guy."

"Don't worry, Spock, I won't be_ too_ jealous," said Toshi.

x x x x x

Since her dorm was on the way back to the shuttle bay where the Commander, Patrick and Toshi kept their craft Spock did not get to escort Nyota home alone. At the entrance to her hall Nyota thanked Sharpton for dinner, said good night to Toshi, then got a handshake and light hug from Patrick. Spock looked down at the ground until the other man let her go. Looking up as Nyota shrugged Patrick off Spock said, "I will see you tomorrow 09:00, Cadet."

Nyota graced him with a brilliant smile -- one that she had not shared with anyone else that evening. "I can't wait Lieutenant!" she said.

Spock nodded holding her gaze, and then watched with the others as she entered her building.

x x x x x

Spock did not go into his lab at his usual early hour. He had spent the morning catching up on some journals he had meant to read the night before, and then there was a faculty meeting at 7:30. It wasn't until 8:17 that he escaped the meeting with Patrick and Toshi. The two of them were anxious to see the results of the controls. They were right behind Spock as he exited the turbolift and found the door to his lab already open.

Odd. He didn't expect Nyota until 09:00. She had a class until 08:45...

He entered his lab with Patrick and Toshi. The three of them all stopped abruptly in their tracks. Nyota quickly brought herself to attention. Despite having dry cheeks it was obvious from the redness in her eyes that she had been crying.

**A/N:**  
Please keep reviewing it helps keep me going.


	58. Boyfriend Trouble

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock & Nyota**

**Boyfriend Trouble**

"Uh oh," said Toshi.

"Gotta be boyfriend trouble," whispered Patrick.

Spock ignored them. Feeling like his heart was located in the vicinity of his throat Spock said, "At ease Cadet." She did not relax.

Tilting his head, he focused completely on Nyota.

"We'll just be leaving now," said Toshi with a cough.

"Yep...ummm...good luck, Spock," whispered Patrick.

The speed of their footsteps told Spock that when they left they hadn't really walked out…they had fled.

"Do we need to talk about this in my office?" said Spock finding his own voice a whisper.

"No...Spock...Lieutenant...No..." Nyota's voice gave a hitch. "The transmission. It's gibberish."

Spock felt instantly relieved. At least he hadn't caused her distress. This was a logical problem. He was comfortable, at ease, even pleased by logical problems.

"You decided to run a 'sneak peek' as you called it?" asked Spock completely calm now.

Nyota took a deep breath, head bent to the ground. "Yes...I tried to sleep, but I couldn't, so I came back to the lab last night."

"Did you check the controls, Nyota, did they work?"

"Yes, some of them..."

"Please, be specific, some of them worked and some did not or --"

"No, I didn't review all of them, just the first two...but they were both perfect and I --"

"It is extremely sloppy not to review all the controls, Nyota. Sample size is important."

"Lieutenant! The ones I did check were perfect! Perfect! And I just wanted a sneak peek." Striding purposefully to a 3D console she began pressing buttons with shaking hands. Before him a three dimensional model like the one he had shown her last summer arose. He stared at the patterns in the light and listened as Nyota commanded the computer to play audio. There was nothing but the sound of static.

Tilting his head Spock looked at the 3D projection and said, "This is incorrect."

"I know that!" Nyota snapped. She still hadn't looked him in the eyes. "It's gibberish. Static. There is no sentient signal in there..."

"That is not my meaning. Computer, turn off audio," Spock commanded.

He looked back at the patterns in the light. "Cadet, show me the parameters you entered with the transmission."

She went to a key pad in front of a 2D monitor and he followed her.

"Well done Cadet, you entered all the parameters correctly," said Spock.

"That is not what I want to hear!" cried Nyota.

"It means that one more variable has been removed from the equation, Cadet. This makes our job simpler. Come." He led her back to the 3D light projection. "Look at this pattern." He pointed to an upside down concentric cone of shimmering light with in the larger mass of flickers. "Do you recognize it?"

"It's a solar flare..."

"Yes...almost assuredly a solar flare...but not a solar flare you would expect to see from Sol. The pattern within the cone is not as dense as what we generally see from the Terran sun."

"Oh." Nyota was quiet. "So it's a fake....the whole transmission." Her body sagged. "It really had to be all along didn't it? You warned me."

"I did not say that it was a fake, Cadet."

Nyota didn't appear to be listening; she went over to the couch, sat down and dropped her face into her hands. "I mean...I'm not wearing a Romulan slave girl outfit...so of course..."

"Cadet, it is not logical to rule out all possibilities. Even I am not prepared to declare the transmission a fake."

Nyota looked up at him.

Spock grabbed a chair, pushed it over towards the couch and sat down in front of her.

"Cadet Uhura, at this point there are three possibilities: First the original transmission comes from another solar system; second the degradation of time, or the process of converting it from its original format to the electronic file has made it unintelligible; or third, a combination of both..."

"Does it matter which?"

"Of course it matters -- in science truth always matters."

"But we won't know...until we decode every single system in the entire galaxy...it's hopeless. I give up." She shuddered and pulled her legs up, wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. He decided not to comment on her boots being on the couch. Fortunately, or unfortunately, they blocked his view...

Spock leaned forward. "Cadet, there is still work to be done. It is still possible this is a genuine transmission of Terran origin...and if it is not it behooves us to let Star Fleet archives know that their files have been mislabeled."

"Possible it's still genuine...how do we even prove that?" Nyota asked looking up.

"We work backwards. Instead of stripping out the naturally occurring subspace signals we create models of what we know the natural subspace signals were. We have access to that information -- at the time Earth's scientists were constantly monitoring Sol for sunspots, flares and other activity. And of course it is easy to calculate the positions of the planets. The formula that accommodates for the asteroid field may be slightly off...however there is still a chance it is sufficient...

Nyota looked at him. "And then what?"

Spock leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "Then we compare the natural signal results from your transmission with the historical models we create. Anywhere there is no sentient subspace chatter there is very likely to be some alignment between our historical model and your transmission. It's possible when we compare the two we'll discover that the degradation has not been random. If so we may be able to create a program that adjusts for the degradation…"

Nyota's eyes got bright. "Like increasing darkness and contrast in old Terran photos that have faded over time to see the original image!"

Spock tilted his head. "The metaphor is...apt. Like the reconstructed photograph the results are likely to be distortions of the original...but still recognizable."

There faces were no more than twenty four centimeters apart. He raised an eyebrow and said, "You see, Nyota, despair is not yet logical."

Nyota looked at him and beamed.

Behind Spock someone gently cleared their throat.

Not getting out of his chair he turned to look. It was Professor Xelium.

**A/N:**  
The fear of every male boss...that his female employee will be found in tears!

I actually think that this sort of thing would be more likely to make Nyota cry than death and destruction on a star ship. That is survival. This is heartbreak.

Thanks again for reading! Please, the reviews do help keep me going.


	59. Nearly Perfection

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock & Nyota**

Nearly Perfection

"Excuse me," said Xelium, holding a PADD behind his back. "Am I interrupting something?"

Spock mentally checked the past few sentences he'd spoken. He had used Nyota's first name...but didn't that happen in Toshi and Patrick's labs all the time? Granted Nyota's position on the couch was unorthodox...

As soon as the thought passed through his mind she uncurled her legs and sat up straight.

"We are just finishing up Professor Xelium," Spock replied. "Cadet, you are dismissed for the day."

"But..." Nyota started to protest.

"Dismissed, Cadet." It was an inopportune time to question orders, moreover, exhausted humans were prone to error and acts of emotionalism.

She glanced at Xelium, shook her head and then got up to leave, grabbing a PADD and her bag as she went.

Xelium watched her go. "What happened to her?"

Spock tilted his head. "She has allowed herself to become emotionally invested in our research. The results of an experiment were not what she expected and she was disappointed."

"Ah," said Xelium, "They do that."

Spock was not sure what 'they' Xelium was referring to.

The older man started to pace nodding his head a little nervously. "Lieutenant Spock, I would...I need...I have some new research. Well, no, you see, it is old research...an old idea I revisited lately -- and I think that, I think that it has merit.

"I would like someone to review my theory and my calculations and they say...they say you are the best one to do it."

Xelium held out his PADD. "Here...here...it is everything. It was an idea I had back when I was a student. My God, I was only nineteen years old..." He let out a nervous laugh and ran his fingers through his slightly unkempt hair.

Spock took the proffered PADD. The first screen was obviously a scan from a napkin...

Xelium saw his gaze. "Inspiration strikes at the oddest times."

"Indeed," said Spock recognizing a crude sketch of a warp coil. He flicked through the next few screens and his eyes widened. It was a modified warp coil design...it was simple, elegant...brilliant.

"You've heard about the new element, Linellium 8, they recently discovered it...have been theorizing about its existence for years..." Xeliums voice was quiet. It had a pleading edge to it. "Well, I have theorized about it too and had an idea for this improved warp coil design but without the actual element..."

"Fascinating," said Spock. "Professor Xelium, the potential...I do not wish to rush to conclusions. May I please review this overnight?"

"What? You can't tell me now?" The older man raised his hands and for a moment Spock thought he intended to snatch back the PADD. "They said you are a genius...a virtual computer..."

Spock stared at Xelium with new understanding. Despite his previous ambivalence about the professor the modified warp coil design he was proposing was quite possibly revolutionary. It put the professor's emotional outbursts in a new light. "Professor, I am half human half Vulcan. I am not a computer." Then to lighten the tone and hopefully ease the professor's emotional state he added gently, "However much simpler that would be."

Xelium backed away and looked down. He slipped his fingers in his pockets. "Yes...I'm sorry...It is just that it is my baby..."

Raising a suspicious eyebrow Spock held up the PADD. "You have backups do you not?"

Running another nervous hand through his hair Xelium said, "Yes, yes...maybe...not all together..."

Spock stared at the older man. He wasn't sure if he was being harsh in his judgment, or just too Vulcan, but Xelium seemed just a touch erratic and unstable. Nonetheless, his research was extremely promising.

"Come with me," Spock said to the professor.

Spock walked into his office with Xelium and retrieved two spare data filaments. He slipped the first into the PADD, made sure that everything was copied and then made another copy just to be thorough.

Handing the filaments to Xelium he said, "Here, now you have a backup all in one place. One is spare for Commander Sharpton. You should show her this immediately."

Xelium looked up and at Spock and smiled. "I'll wait for you to review it over night. If you have confidence in it tomorrow, I will show it to her." Xelium looked at the tiny filaments, the diameter of a piece of yarn and approximately eight centimeters in length. "Heh...these are bendable aren't they? I see my students with these...some of them even wrap them around their fingers. Like tying a piece of string around your finger so you don't forget..."

Spock looked at him blankly.

"Never mind...just an old Earth thing. Thank you for your help, Spock." He wrapped the filaments around the ring finger of his left hand and then put his hands in his pockets.

"So," Xelium said. "I suppose I should ask you how your research is going?"

"It is not necessary to stand on protocol. You do not need to ask me out of a human sense of politeness," said Spock.

"Not going as you expected?"

"No, this semester's research is progressing very close to the way I expected in fact. It is not progressing the way Commander Sharpton, Cadet Uhura, the Lieutenant-Commander or Professor Matsumura would have hoped."

Xelium nodded. "Some projects are like that. Sometimes the slump can last for years."

Spock didn't know what to say to that. Obviously, Xelium's career had been stagnant for decades. Spock didn't think that his own research was necessarily in vain -- it worked and the technology would be useful for remote outposts and surveillance, it was just that this particular transmission was likely to be nothing. Everything he had told Nyota was true...but it was still so unlikely...

After an uncomfortable silence Xelium said, "I'll see you tomorrow right?"

Spock nodded. "I will stop by your lab first thing in the morning."

x x x x x x x x

After Xelium left Spock went and informed Commander Sharpton about the status of the transmission and his theories on why it was unintelligible.

She sighed and said, "Well, you warned us. Please don't say 'I told you so'..."

"Commander, such a statement while literally accurate would be figuratively premature as we do not know if the transmission is indeed truly a fraud."

The Commander looked at him, "But you feel its a fraud."

"I do not feel on the matter," corrected Spock. "I merely calculated the odds that it is genuine at zero-point-zero-zero --"

"That's worse than saying I told you so. Please stop."

Spock stopped. "Commander, I do have a plan for verifying that the transmission is indeed a fraud..."

Sharpton listened to him explain and then said, "Make it so. And Lieutenant...don't let any of us get as excited this time."

x x x x x x x x

Entering the door to his apartment that evening Spock was pleasantly surprised to see Nyota's shoes in the foyer. A few minutes after the door whooshed shut and he'd slipped off his coat and shoes she emerged from his bedroom wearing only his nightshirt. Evidently she'd been napping.

Crossing her arms over her chest she said, "I was so pissed when you dismissed me earlier..."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"But..." she continued, "You were right...about me needing to get some rest. And...."

Walking towards him Nyota uncrossed her arms and brought her hands up to his chest. Then she whispered in Vulcan, _"Thank you for not letting me give into illogical despair, my Spock."_

Logic had its rewards.

x x x x x x x x

Later, very, very early the next morning Nyota came out of the bedroom and found him indulging in the remnants of an avocado salad reading Xelium's PADD.

Coming up from behind him she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and whispered in his ear, "What are you reading?"

"Something that Professor Xelium asked me to review," Spock replied absently stroking her arm.

"Is it half as crazy as he is?"

"No, Nyota, it is very...nearly...perfect."

**A/N:**  
Long time reader...never a reviewer? Reviews are really, really, really great -- I'll never get paid for this, except in feedback.


	60. Breakthroughs

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock & Nyota**

Breakthroughs

The next morning Spock went to Xelium's lab just as he had promised. When he entered the professor was working with his assistant Delang at a console. As soon as he saw Spock he came forward, running his hands through his already disheveled hair.

"Professor Xelium," Spock began holding the other man's PADD, "I think that your ideas for modified warp coil design, particularly your alterations to the containment field, have the potential to be the most beneficial breakthrough in warp technology in nearly ten years."

Professor Xelium turned and looked back at Dalang and smiled wide.

"I did notice some flaws in your calculations of increased efficiency, however..." said Spock.

Professor Xelium's face swiveled back to Spock's and his smile vanished. "What? No, you're wrong! I reworked those equations...I did not overestimate the efficiency..."

"Indeed, you did not," interrupted Spock uncomfortable with the man's sudden change of tone. "I believe you underestimated the increased efficiency. You estimated 19.3%, but I believe it will be closer to 21.78%."

"Oh," said Xelium, comprehension dawning. "Oh.

"Lieutenant Spock," the professor said softly, "Do you think that there is any possibility that I could have this ready for presentation at the upcoming Multidimensional Physics Conference in late May."

"You will need to run experiments on models of modified warp coils, Professor. Star Fleet bureaucracy is very slow at getting funding approved for new projects such as these...but..." Spock tilted his head. "…the Vulcan Science Academy is much swifter. I believe if you were to work in conjunction with them you would have sufficient data at your disposal to present at the end of May. Considering the benefit your modified designs may bring I believe they will be more than willing to assist you. If you need, I will be able to forward your name to the most appropriate contacts..."

Suddenly the professor rushed forward, grabbed the PADD from Spock and vigorously began shaking Spock's hand. "Thank you! Thank you!" he said his face alight with a smile, his head nodding.

It was too fast for Spock to put up his mental shields. The only emotion he felt from Xelium was pure, unadulterated happiness, but it was still disquieting...he barely knew the man.

Spock yanked his hand away. Professor Xelium's smile vanished.

"Excuse me," said Spock, "I did not mean to be rude. I am a contact telepath and..."

"Oh, no, oh, no. I'm sorry...Lieutenant Spock. That was not very cultural sensitive of me." He smiled and nodded. "Thank you. Thank you again."

Dalang came towards the two of them. "You see," she said to Xelium, a smile on her wizened features, "You see. I told you."

Xelium turned his head to her and nodded. "Yes. Yes, you did. You did," he said softly.

Spock backed away, the awkward link still in his mind. "I will forward you the names of the most appropriate contacts," he said.

He nodded once to Xelium and then left.

x x x x x

Two weeks after the initial disappointment Spock and Nyota were in his lab at midnight.

Spock's plan to accommodate for time degradation had worked. It hadn't gone off without a hitch...the producers of the original recording had marked the time wrong by five seconds...an eternity in subspace. Toshi had discovered the error, and he and Patrick had worked tirelessly to help Spock discover the right time settings.

Now Spock and Nyota were waiting for the computer to finish stripping out the natural occurring subspace noise from the transmission Nyota had found. If there was anything left over, it would mean that the transmission was genuine.

Spock was sitting on a swivel chair. Nyota was sitting on the couch her blanket thrown over her legs. On a 3D console in front of them there were shimmering lights of the entire transmission...naturally occurring signals and potentially more...

This really could wait for morning in Spock's opinion, but he knew that Nyota could not wait, and he didn't want her alone in the lab late at night. And he certainly didn't want her to be alone crying in the lab late at night.

Well...not completely alone. Three more sets of footsteps sounded just outside his door, and then Patrick, Toshi and the Commander came in, they'd been waiting in their respective offices down the hall.

Nyota and Spock stood at attention.

"At ease," said the Commander.

"Is it almost time?" asked Patrick.

Just then the computer beeped. Nyota's eyes spun to the 3D display.

"It is time," said Spock. "Computer, strip out all naturally occurring subspace noise."

And then before them the lights in the 3D console began to flicker out one by one...

...but not all. A narrow band of light remained hovering in the air.

Spock heard three human's swallow all at once.

"Computer identify source of remaining subspace noise and commence converting to audio," said Spock.

The computers dulcet voices began, "Source of subspace noise identified...sentient...Romulan."

Spock blinked in surprise. It was real. He heard Nyota, Patrick, Toshi and the Commander all take sudden gasps of breath.

The computer spoke again, "Commencing audio conversion. Expected completion twenty-three minutes and seventeen seconds." Spock barely heard these words...The humans around him had all started cheering at once. Nyota spun around so she was facing Spock, threw her arms up and the air and started jumping up and down. Patrick and Toshi were slapping each other on the back so hard that Spock was certain it was physically painful. The Commander caught Nyota in a hug which Nyota returned...but Nyota's eyes were locked on Spock's.

He wanted to link with her. Patrick, Toshi and the Commander had their backs to him -- he held up two fingers in the air for only Nyota to see, but brought them down quickly to his side. Nyota's face got serious. She let go of the Commander her eyes still on him. And then Patrick, Toshi, and the Commander became quiet and turned to look at him too. It was almost like they had all received some signal Spock couldn't hear...sometimes he wondered if humans were telepathic. At the very least they seemed to all speak a physical language he didn't completely understand.

It was the Commander who spoke first, "Spock, it is only twenty years of cultural sensitivity training that is keeping me from giving you a hug right now."

"That goes for me too!" said Patrick with a wide smile.

"And me!" said Nyota.

It was touching...and at once made him feel like he was part of the group and reminded him that he wasn't.

Toshi looked at Spock then dropped his eyes to the ground, put his hands and his sides and bowed low at the waist.

Spock knew that the Japanese bow was a surprisingly complicated movement -- there was meaning in depth, duration and number of bows. But it was the only human gesture he could respond to. Spock bowed back, and hoped he wasn't being offensive.

When he looked up Toshi was smiling at him.

Patrick whacked Toshi on the back and said, "There Spock, that back slap was for you."

The Commander gave Nyota another squeeze and then said, "Well, done Spock."

Nyota beamed at him.

And then suddenly the Commander was all business again, "Okay, everyone who doesn't speak Romulan...out!"

Patrick, Toshi and the Commander filed out of the lab. Spock stood frozen as they walked past him, his eyes on Nyota. He'd missed her happiness a few minutes before...happiness that the other humans seemed so easily to share. The urge to link, or just to be in physical contact was immense.

The four humans had just been so demonstrative to one another. Surely he could just touch her? "The audio will be available in my office. Perhaps it would be more comfortable to do the final translation there?"

"Yes, that sounds good," Nyota said.

Gently he put a hand on her back, or more specifically, the back of her uniform. He didn't even press his hand down hard enough to leave an indentation. "Come," he said directing her towards his office.

He had to remind himself to keep the door open...

**A/N:**

Please remember…I get paid in reviews…If you read and enjoy, please let me know. Next chapter we'll get to see what the transmission is about…ooooo….ahhhhh…


	61. Schindler, Sugihara, Bhat and Kalanel

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock & Nyota**

**Schindler, Sugihara, Bhat and Kalenel**

When they entered the office the computer had finished converting the subspace signal to audio. Focused on interpreting it, Spock had not found it difficult to resist linking with Nyota.

Spock had never counted on the transmission being genuine. So of course he had no expectations for the its content. But even without expectations the Romulan message was...He had no words for it. But it left him with an emptiness in his chest.

When the Romulan vessel had arrived at Earth the planet looked much as it did in Spock's present day. A blue and green marble of clouds, land and most significantly, water -- the most essential ingredient of life for humans, Vulcans and Romulans alike.

The Romulan ship had access to equipment that could transmit signals at standard radio frequencies. These were the frequencies Nyota had heard those first three fateful syllables on. It was highly unlikely that the ship couldn't receive these frequencies too.

What's more, the skies above the Earth at that time were dotted with space debris from early exploratory missions...and were practically buzzing with satellites.

In short, the most primitive radio equipment would have indicated that Earth possessed intelligent life...but even that was not needed. To the naked eye from where the Romulan vessel had hovered above, the planet Earth would have been obviously and vibrantly _alive._

...and it would have been a perfect target of Romulan conquest. Water. Tolerable temperatures. Obviously fertile. And possessing an intelligent, yet technologically inferior species that would have been easy and useful to enslave.

...But enslavement had not happened.

The transmission had been difficult to translate. The quality was poor and the dialect unfamiliar. Morning light was filtering through his office window by the time Spock and Nyota were reasonably confident on a tentative interpretation.

They were sitting across from one another at his desk. Spock sat facing the door, Nyota faced him. Her ponytail was a little looser. Her face was tired. Her eyes were slightly bright with tears...although none were running down her cheeks.

Reaching across the table Spock took the PADD that Nyota had done the original transcribing and translation on. He put it in the middle of the table to review it one last time.

The first part was the original radio frequency signal Nyota had heard.  
_  
Romulan 1: ...switching to subspace..._

It was an odd statement. Nyota theorized the Romulan had said it under his breath. The subspace transmission that followed...Spock took a deep breath and read...

_Romulan 1: This is the Captain Kalenel of the Falingea-galant contacting Romulus substation Talikni 3. Come in Romulus...Come in._

_Romulus: This is Romulus substation Talikni 3. What is your present location Falingea-galant?_

_Romulan 1 (Captain Kalenel): I am at the third planet of the sun in solar system 3244-dinil._

_Romulus: We have not received your sensor's data transmissions Kalenel._

_Captain Kalenel: My sensors are barely functioning. After the attack by the Salintok in sector 2334 our sensors were damaged...We were not aware of the damage until we realized that an undetected radiation leak from the warp coil was sickening us._

_Romulus: Understood._

_(pause)_

_Captain Kalenel: However, I can tell you, from sight alone that the planet is a barren, lifeless gray rock...It appears that the surface may have once run with water, but there is nothing here now._

_Romulus: That is not what was detected by our light analysis._

_Captain Kalenel: Agreed. It is not what was expected. But whatever our light analysis revealed about the third planet in the 3244-dinil system three hundred and sixty point one years ago, now the planet is dead._

_Captain Kalenel: There is a wide...unstable...asteroid field just past the system's fourth planet. Visual inspection reveals the third planet and its moon have received frequent collisions...perhaps such a collision is the reason for its lack of atmosphere._

_Romulus: I am sure you are disappointed Kalenel. System 3244-dinil seemed very promising. But your family will still be able to take honor in the fact that you have been a loyal servant to the empire. They and all of Romulus await the return of you and your crew._

_(pause)_

_Captain Kalenel: The Flaingea-galant will return home...But of my crew and I only empty shells will remain. Of the thirteen souls at the beginning of our voyage only I am left._

_(pause)_

_Captain Kalenel: ...radiation sickness has taken us...Our stores of antidote have long been exhausted. Even at maximum speed the Falingea-galant will not make it home for two hundred twenty four days. I will not make it another five._

_(pause)_

_Captain Kalenel: Please...give my wife and children my love._

_Romulus: We will tell them you were a brave and loyal servant of the empire! Hail to the Empire!_

_(pause)_

_Captain Kalenel: Hail...to the Empire..._

_(pause)_

_Captain Kalenel: I need to do one more final check...of the autopilot routine...I must go._

_Romulus: Hail noble servant of the empire!_

_..._and there it ended.

Nyota tapped her fingers to the PADD, "Light analysis?"

Spock tilted his head, "I can only infer they meant analysis of the light reflecting off Earth's atmosphere as it would be seen by Romulan telescopes. Early Terrans analyzed the light of distant planets to determine the chemical composition too. But the data interpreted this way would be as old as the light year distance. Since Romulus is 362.1 light years away it would 362.1 years old."

"So the light analysis on Romulus when this ship arrived in the 1990's would be showing data from the 1600's?" she asked.

"Yes."

She swallowed. "So with his lie he planned on buying us us three hundred years..." she murmured.

"Perhaps. We cannot know his motivations, Cadet. It is pointless to speculate on so little data." It was pointless _and _illogical...nonetheless, Spock did feel something like sadness...sadness for an unknown Romulan.

"And we know he was really talking about Earth? He wasn't hovering over Mars and having radiation sickness induced vision problems?" Nyota asked.

"We know from the radio transmissions that he was above Earth. We can tell this from the direction of the original signals as interpreted by the Saganite receiver. I thought this fraud had been perpetrated from an old Earth satellite..."

Spock caught himself. "But of course, it is no fraud...You were right," Spock said softly. "Descartes Error...again."

He was exhausted. She looked exhausted...and he felt inexplicably drained. Spock looked at Nyota, put down the PADD, laid his hand on the desk and turned his palm upwards. She looked him in the eye and gently slipped two fingers onto two of his own. He felt a spark of _her..._and sadness...and exhaustion like his own.

Nyota smiled softly. "Without your logic, Descartes would never have been proven wrong." And then across the link came a flicker of love. It buoyed his spirits a little bit.

A cough echoed through the door from the direction of the lab and they quickly pulled their fingers apart.

Then there was a knock on the door frame, but no head emerged right away. "Come in," said Spock puzzled.

Toshi poked his head through the door. "Are you finished? The Lieutenant Commander and the Commander are on their way..."

"We are finished," said Spock.

"Perhaps we should go into the lab," suggested Nyota, "It will get awfully crowded in here."

Spock nodded and the three of them exited his office and headed over to the couch in his laboratory. Toshi sat down on one edge, Nyota sat next to him and handed him the PADD. "Here," she said, "You were here first, you can read it first."

Even though Nyota had read through the translation dozens of times she still read it again over Toshi's shoulder -- Spock was unsure why. Certainly she had committed it to memory by now?

_"Taihen, ne?"_

"_Hai, taihen desu_.. it is terrible...but maybe that is why he let us live?"

"Maybe," said Toshi. Spock noticed the other man's eyes were excessively moist.

And then Toshi did something he never did. Eyes not leaving the PADD he reached over and took one of Nyota's hands, squeezed it gently and then let it drop. Spock felt himself stiffen. This sort of behavior was something he would expect from Patrick, not Toshi. The Japanese culture was not demonstrative...

Patrick and the Commander entered the lab. "I'm saying at ease before you can even snap to attention," grumbled the Commander striding up to the couch and unceremoniously dropping down on the other side of Nyota. "Did you go home last night, Uhura?"

"No."

The Commander nodded. "What have we got?"

Toshi handed the PADD gently to Nyota, who passed it to Commander Sharpton.

Not standing on protocol Patrick sat on the arm of the couch next to Sharpton and read over her shoulder.

Patrick took a loud audible breath. "Holy fuck, we dodged a bullet."

'Holy fuck' was a phrase that would classify as 'conduct unbecoming of an officer' Spock noted. But Commander Sharpton did not correct him. She just held up one of her hands and Patrick took it in his for a moment.

At last she said, "Holy fuck pretty much sums it up." She swallowed and took a deep breath. "Lieutenant Spock...what are the chances this is fake?"

"Commander, I estimate at this point the chances that this is a fraud are less than two percent. However, as in all science, it would be best to have our methods tested."

The Commander nodded.

"Commander," added Nyota, "It would also be wise to have the translation reviewed. I have an associate on Vulcan, T'Lan, she specializes in Romulan ancient literature..."

"Make that so Cadet," the Commander said. "I don't want to be caught with our pants down on this. Spock, can you think of anyone at the Vulcan Science Academy who would be willing to review your methods and verify your results?"

"Yes, Commander..."

"Good, make sure they are discreet. I don't want any more leaks than absolutely necessary on this. Listen to me, all of you," the Commander said looking everyone in the room in the eye in turn. "Until we hear back from Uhura's language expert, and Spock's contacts at the Vulcan Science Academy we don't talk about this to anyone...I will have to tell the Admiral, and the Chancellor, and some of the admin I suppose..."

She sighed. "The press will get hold of this eventually...lets postpone it as long as possible. We need to verify this is genuine...Spock, and Uhura, I want you to be prepared to present this at the Multidimensional Physics Conference in May...you've got nearly two months to prepare...that should give you plenty of time..."

She sighed again. "Why do you think he was broadcasting on standard radio frequencies in the beginning?"

"Maybe he was lonely?" said Nyota.

"No one would have understood him," commented Toshi.

"They would have been scared shitless though," said Patrick. "Having an alien hovering above Earth in a warp going vessel when you can barely reach the moon..."

"So he wanted to say hello, but then thought better of it," said the Commander.

Spock tilted his head. "It is pointless to speculate. We will never be able to confirm his motivations. By speculating you anthropomorphise him, in and and of itself a fallacy and illogical."

All the humans looked up at him at once. Their expressions were not happy.

"Spock, this guy is the only reason we are here today..." began Patrick.

"That is uncertain," commented Spock. "Even if he had reported the suitable nature of Earth to Romulus a myriad number of events could have occurred that would have prevented conquest..."

"Spock," said Nyota, "He saved our planet!"

She hadn't addressed him by his rank. Spock drew back...but no one was looking at Nyota. Everyone was looking at him. What was going on?

"Spock," said Toshi with a sigh, "You are being very logical, but at this moment we are emotional."

Patrick bowed his head, "Yeah...Uhura's right...Look, no matter what his motivations were he at the very least bought us some time...maybe he was just mad...but..."

"He was protecting us," said the Commander shaking her head.

"Nazi Germany had a Schindler..." said Nyota.

"Imperial Japan had a Sugihara..." murmured Toshi.

"The Kashmiri Empire had their Bhat..." said Patrick.

"And apparently the Romulan Empire had a Captain Kalenel," finished Commander Sharpton.

The Commander looked at Nyota. "Cadet Uhura...I think it is fair to say if you keep your grades up you're going to receive any posting you want when you graduate."

She turned to Spock. "And you, our favorite logical Vulcan, are due for a promotion. Spock, with this...there is no way your career as a researcher at the Academy won't shoot sky high..."

**A/N:**  
I know a lot of you expected Nero, but I don't see how that would have happened...and this is a little more profound if you think about it. Saved by one. Nearly destroyed by one. Kind of galactic balance.

Also, Romulus is listed as being 3.61 ly away, but that is impossible, the closest solar system to Earth is Proxima Centauri at 4.21 ly and it does not have any habitable planets...nor do the other 9 closest systems. So I moved the decimal point. Also, since this two hundred years ago, I figure Romulan vessels aren't as fast. So it was an expensive (almost a given)/long/dangerous mission...that revealed a rock. They wouldn't be coming back anytime soon.

Also, in the book for the movie Star Trek 2009 Nero said something about Romulans having watched Earth and decided we were a noble people. (One tiny sentence). I could have written the transmission that way, and yet... I couldn't. The thing is...they are an Empire...and I just can't imagine them not taking over Earth if they knew about its suitability for conquest. As you can tell, I think Romulans as individuals can be good 'people', but the Empire seems a wee bit violent. Interested on your feedback. I don't really like breaking the rules...but when the rules are STUPID...eh...


	62. 314159 26535 89793 23846 2

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**3.14159 26535 89793 23846 2...**

Spock was mentally reciting the value of _pi_. It was something he did when he was feeling particularly un-stimulated. Apparently, having one's research career shoot 'sky high' meant having to attend award ceremonies. He and twenty other 'outstanding' researchers in their respective fields were being honored at a luncheon.

He didn't feel like he belonged here. The Chancellor and the Admiral had insisted that Sharpton nominate him for the award based on the 'secret' Romulan transmission...which had not been independently verified as yet. So ostensibly he was here for his work in subspace physics in general. Although his work in the field was more than adequate, the breadth of it was not sufficient to merit special approbation in Spock's opinion.

...and certainly it was not enough in the opinion of others. The day it was announced he was up for the award he'd caught the tail end of an argument between Professor Xelium and Commander Sharpton about his nomination. Xelium had not been happy...

The sound of polite applause filled the room, and then from the right of him came, Patrick's voice. "I am bored out of my skull. I was just mentally reciting square roots in my brain..."

"I've been going through Trill verb conjugations for the last hour," said Nyota holding up a tiny electronic flash card on Spock's right.

"That last speaker was..." began Toshi.

"...Inane," finished Commander Sharpton. "We already work for Starfleet, what's with the sales pitch?"

"Hey, Katie and I are having a barbecue this weekend," said Patrick, "You're all invited...that means you too, Cadet Uhura. Spock, I make a mean portabello mushroom burger."

Mean fungus? Spock tilted his head.

Nyota looked at Patrick, "I'd love to come!"

Which pretty much settled the issue for Spock, mean fungus or not. "I am available to attend."

For the past two weeks after the translation of the Romulan transmission Spock and Nyota, and occasionally Patrick, Toshi and the Commander as well had been met by the Chancellor, the Admiral, and various other higher ups. The dean of the xenolinguistic department had also entertained them...how she learned of the Romulan transmission Nyota and Spock had no idea.

Figuratively and literally it seemed like everyone wanted to shake their hands...which was uncomfortable on _many _levels to Spock…unwanted physical contact and excessive attention. One was socially awkward and uncomfortable, the other kept him away from his work -- preparing for the presentation and writing his paper. Nyota had at first been thrilled with all the attention, but now even she was saying it was keeping her from her studies.

And other members of the department were starting to comment. Professor Xelium and others had asked him about his meetings with the 'top brass.' And all he could do was be vague about his subspace research.

But there was an upside...

The shared experience of uncovering the transmission seemed to have strengthened the bond between himself, Nyota, Toshi, Patrick and the Commander. It seemed he always had lunch companions. He ate lunch with Nyota more than once a week now...but it was almost always in the company of his other colleagues, so there was no threat of the appearance of impropriety.

They had also played house with Patrick, Toshi, the Commander and their respective spouses last weekend at Muir Woods -- good conversation, good wine, good food, trees, banana slugs...and for some reason it had just been assumed..._assumed_...that Spock would accompany Nyota back to the shuttle stop.

It seemed they would be similarly occupied this weekend.

Up at the podium a speaker was describing Starfleet's long and illustrious history of research. Spock looked at the Commander and Patrick, they both rolled their eyes. Toshi heaved a sigh and shook his head at Spock. Spock glanced to his right and caught Nyota's eyes. She smiled at him and for a moment everything else faded completely away.

The speaker finished speaking and there was the sound of polite applause. Over the patter of clapping hands the Commander said to Spock, "Oh, Starfleet is hosting some potential Vulcan recruits in April, Spock. I'm supposed to loan you out for a few days...thought I'd say something before I forget. Has the Vulcan Interspecies Council contacted you yet?"

With Patrick grumbling something about xenocist Vulcan bastards in the background Spock replied, "No, they have not."

"Hmmm...that's odd. I'm sure they will though...Patrick, would you be quiet? Part of the Vulcan Interspecies Councils job is to protect Spock's interests here. They can't be all that bad."

Patrick snapped, "They don't care about Spock's interests."

The Commander ignored him. "I wonder if they will ask for Uhura's presence as well? I did hear they were looking for an interpreter."

x x x x x x x

On Monday, after a fascinating weekend at the O'Hara's, Spock learned more about the potential Vulcan recruits. Not from D'Zorack, but from the Chancellor. The Chancellor did insist that D'Zorack would be contacting Spock soon. He had his secretary send Spock all of the files on the potential recruits.

Spock reviewed the forty-nine applications quickly. None, of course, where Vulcan Science Academy material, but they were fairly accomplished. As he read through the files he noticed that all of the Vulcans were actively being pursued on behalf of Starfleet by D'Zorack himself.

All but one. His name was Tyback and all of the recommendations in his file came from human scientists stationed on Vulcan. When Spock read Tyback's background his eyebrows shot up...

**A/N:**  
I am so glad most of you liked Chapter 61. I was worried I was setting myself up for an epic fail. Hence the long rationalization in the AN…

Thanks for all your reviews...yes, the following chapters do have a point…and I think it's obvious we're approaching the end. We're just about 2 months before the accusation now.


	63. Tyback

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Tyback**

Tyback sat alone at the back of the shuttle watching as the curve of Earth emerged in the window. He had done it. He had arrived. Even if Starfleet did not accept him he had done so much more than he had ever expected. If he just continued to work hard and 'keep his open mind' as the humans had told him...

Down the aisle D'Zorack was reiterating in Vulcan, _"...and of course we expect you all to maintain proper form. Do not eat excessively...you are not expected to shake hands if any humans offer such contact...you are not expected to answer any questions about Vulcan behavior or customs that are inappropriate..."_

Tyback was half listening. He really didn't understand the order not to eat excessively. What was excessive?

His eyes were caught by the massive swirl of clouds above the globe of green and blue of Sol's third planet and abruptly lost interest in anything else.

So much water. It was in the skies, in vast oceans, frozen in polar caps...all visible from his position outside the stratosphere. Amazing.

They passed through clouds as they headed down to Earth. And when they arrived in San Francisco's shuttle dock there was actual _fog. _Tyback could not believe his good fortune.

After landing they were taken to the hotel that would be their quarters. At the front desk Tyback realized he was going to receive his own room. He wasn't surprised by this. It was unlikely that the other Vulcans would benefit from his company. No matter, he would take advantage of his solitude. There was something illogical he had wanted to do since he was a child.

When he arrived at his room Tyback was momentarily taken aback by the opulence. There was carpeting on the floor, personal temperature control, and a bed wide enough for two.

Dropping his bags to the ground, Tyback hastily removed his shoes and found the sanitary cubicle. There it was. Just as he had been told...a _bath tub_. He had never experienced anything more than a sonic shower. Hastily he fiddled with the controls discovering how he could block the drain -- it was set to open as the default, what a tremendous waste. Programming the temperature to the highest heat he unceremoniously began stripping off his clothes; he didn't even bother to fold them before stepping into the rapidly rising water.

Slowly slipping his body down as much as his height would allow Tyback allowed the water to envelope his hips, his stomach and chest. Then pinching his nose with his fingers and taking a deep breath he put his head back until except for the tops of his knees he was completely underwater. He opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling through a shimmering liquid blanket.

Fascinating.

If he had to die in 2.13 years he decided drowning would not be a bad option.

x x x x x x

_"Ashanti Patel, the cadet scheduled to be our interpreter today had to leave due to a death in the family,"_ D'Zorack said as he stood next to Spock in the empty Academy reception room.

_"If I may,"_ said Spock, _"I highly recommend Cadet Uhura as..."_

Spock had been disappointed and surprised that Nyota hadn't been assigned to this event in the first place.

_"There is no need," _replied D'Zorack. _"The Xenolinguistic department is sending over one of their best."_

Just then, much to Spock's delight, if not surprise, Nyota emerged through the door. She nodded at D'Zorack and Spock and said in Vulcan, _"D'Zorack, Lieutenant Spock, good morning. The director of the Xenolinguistic Department has sent me as a replacement for Cadet Patel."_

_"Good morning, Cadet Uhura,"_ Spock replied. The day had just gotten much better. For some reason he had the impression that D'Zorack and the council were less than happy with his presence. It would be nice to have someone 'in his corner' as the humans would say..  
_  
"Thank you, Lieutenant Spock,"_ Nyota replied in her best professional manner.

There was an awkward silence and then D'Zorack said, _"I did not expect the Xenolinguistic Department to send over another revisionist." _

Nyota straightened in surprise. Spock's eyebrows lifted. He had not heard that term before, although he could guess what it meant.

D'Zorack's eyes moved between the two of them. He looked like he was going to say something but just then the other members of the Council and the potential Vulcan recruits began filing into the room. Nyota moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Spock. Looking up at Spock Nyota shrugged her shoulders. He raised an eyebrow in return.

_"Welcome..._" said D'Zorack in the direction of the entering Vulcans,_ "Today we will begin by taking a tour of Starfleet Campus. We will be joined by Lieutenant Spock whom I'm sure you all have heard of and Cadet Uhura. Perhaps you are familiar with her revisionist interpretation of the T'Kai Lamana Ita__"  
_  
Heads nodded in recognition in the crowd.

Spock scanned the young Vulcans before him. One in particular stood out. Instead of more formal robes like the others he wore simple trousers and a tunic that went down to his mid thighs. He was nearly as tall as Spock, but broader in the shoulder. His skin was greener.

The young Vulcan was not watching D'Zorack. Instead his eyes were trained on Spock.

Spock strongly suspected it was Tyback. He tilted his head as he considered the other Vulcan's simple attire. It shouldn't be a surprise...

As he tilted his head, like a mirror image the Vulcan he suspected was Tyback tilted his head in exactly the same way. And then for the smallest of moments the Vulcan scowled ever so slightly.

x x x x x x

Spock was here. It was not illogical to think that he might be, but Tyback hadn't let himself entertain the idea. If one approached things without expectations one was less likely to be disappointed.

But Spock was here. He watched as Spock raised an eyebrow at the brown skinned woman when she lifted her shoulders. When D'Zorak introduced her he recognized her name. She was Miss Uhura, Spock's colleague, the one whose paper had caused the fuss. Tyback had read the paper. He read anything that had Spock's name on it. He didn't really understand Miss Uhura's paper, languages were not his forte. Nor was philosophy, he was only dimly aware of why it caused a fury. Apparently, in some oblique way it was somehow insulting to Surak or Vulcans or both.

Now Spock was scanning the crowd. The half-Vulcan's gaze stopped at Tyback. He did stand out he realized. His clothing was new, but it was not as ornate as his companions. And the days he spent in the sun had made him rather green. Spock tilted his head. Between the head tilt and the raised eyebrow Tyback was shocked by how expressive the half-Vulcan was.

It was Spock. He had done rather well among humans, as had his father Ambassador Sarek. Maybe being expressive was appropriate here?

Tyback doubted he would get anytime to talk to Spock, there were far more interesting Vulcans around him. But perhaps he could learn from Spock just by observation? He tilted his head in exactly the same manner as the half-Vulcan, hoping he had done it right. He tried to raise a single eyebrow...and felt his whole brow furrow...maybe it would be best to practice that in front of a mirror first. He let his face relax.

They were taken on a tour of the campus. Tyback tried to stay at the head of the crowd as much as possible, that way he would have the best view. He walked alone of course.

The long strides he'd perfected at work enabled him to stay slightly ahead of the other Vulcans...without looking like he was trying to stay slightly ahead. Estimating that his chances of being actually admitted to Starfleet were remote he decided he had to see as much as he could now. Despite his comparative disadvantage he tried to learn as much as he could about as much as he could. It was his personal belief that you could never estimate what knowledge would be transferable.

He noticed that Miss Uhura was often alone. He wondered why. Perhaps his companions understood Standard much better than he and simply were not in need of an interpreter? Tyback was in need of an interpreter. He would like to ask for help...but...

Spock seemed to be taking many questions from the council and others, but Tyback noticed that everyone seemed to keep more distance between Spock and themselves than would be comfortable for optimal conversing. How odd.

In most of the departments humans would give a brief introduction to the facilities in Standard, and then D'Zorack or another member of the council would give them additional information in Vulcan. On arrival at the engineering lab Tyback paid special attention. Engineering was to be his specialty. His human acquaintances had said that his engineering scores might just be enough to compensate for his deficiencies in other areas.

Tyback did his best to understand the human engineer giving the introduction...with moderate success. After D'Zorack gave some words a few Vulcans gathered around the human engineer and asked questions in Standard. Tyback didn't understand much. At the end of the Vulcans' questions the engineer smiled and offered a hand to one of Tyback's companions. All the Vulcans around Tyback stepped back. The engineers mouth dropped, his hand hovered weakly in the air for a moment.

Tyback swallowed, took a deep breath and stepped forward. Grasping the human hand firmly he tried to put up his mental shields...but it was happening much faster than he had practiced. The engineer's confusion and discomfort filled Tyback's mind. Tyback stayed firm, gave one shake and said, "I am Tyback. Thank you for your time."

In a sudden switch of feelings a wave of happy anticipation filled him...the engineer's happy anticipation. "Thank you," he said pumping Tyback's hand furiously. "I hope to see some of you next fall!" Tyback managed to nod, gave one more firm shake and let the engineer's hand go. The human man smiled at him and words rushed out of his mouth that Tyback was too disoriented to follow. All of his fellow Vulcans had dropped away from him as though he was oil and they were water.

The engineer departed with a happy smile at him as the other Vulcans began exiting the room. Staring at the floor trying to regain his bearings, Tyback found himself alone and slightly dizzy. He heard a woman speak a rush of words in Standard next to him. He looked up. It was Miss Uhura.

Tyback managed to mumble, "Standard is not...good."

She switched to Vulcan,_ "I have never seen a Vulcan willingly shake hands before. Are you alright?"_

One of Spock's colleagues was talking to him. He swallowed,_ "It happened much faster than when I practiced it...I was not able to completely put up my shields. Did I do a good job?"_

_"Yes, you did very well." _

She was smiling at him.

_"Good. I need every advantage that I can get," _he replied.

_"I am Cadet Uhura,"_ she said.

_"I know. I am Tyback."_

_"I heard."_

For an uncomfortable moment he said nothing. He stared at her hands clasped in front of her. At last he said, _"I hope you do not mind if I do not shake your hand. I am still disorientated."_

_"That is quite alright." _Miss Uhura smiled at him. "_You have the most amazing accent. What part of Vulcan are you from?"_

_"I am from a rural province." _He decided to change the subject. _"You work with Spock in his subspace communications laboratory as his assistant. Most recently you helped him distinguish the subspace signals of solar bodies. You presented with him last summer when you helped him categorize the languages from sentient subspace transmissions derived from radio frequency signals. You wrote a paper that has created debate and Spock was cited as a reference on it."_

Her eyes were wide. _"You know a lot about me."_  
_  
"No, I know a lot about Spock. He is my role model."  
_  
_"Your role model?"_  
_  
"Yes, similarly to Spock, I am disadvantaged. I use his life as...inspiration...to see how if I work hard, and pursue multiple options I may navigate around my limitations. Just as he found other alternatives to life on Vulcan -- and success in these alternatives, I am attempting to do so. Although, obviously, in a much more modest way."  
_  
Her eyes were even wider._ "Are you half human?"_

**A/N:**

Hee hee hee…


	64. Disadvantages

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**Disadvantages**  
_  
"Yes, similarly to Spock, I am disadvantaged..."_

What? In the hallway Spock turned in the direction of the engineering lab at the sound of Tyback's voice.

The Vulcan recruit with Spock in the hallway was interested in other things. _"Lieutenant Spock, do you think that visual subspace signals could be derived from data in the 300 MHz- 300GHz range?"_

Spock nodded. _"It may be possible. Excuse me a moment."_

Without waiting for an answer he walked into the engineering lab to find Nyota alone with Tyback. Tyback looked a little greener than usual. No doubt from having inadvisedly shaken the human engineer's hand. It had been brave, but reckless.

Nyota's eyes were wide._ "Are you half human?"_

Tyback blinked...as did Spock. Where had she gotten that idea?

_"No, he is not half Vulcan, Cadet Uhura._ _He is intellectually..." _The word usually used in this situation was _deficient_. Spock decided to be gentler. "..._disadvantaged."  
_  
Tyback nodded at Spock.  
_  
"Lieutenant!" _Nyota hissed. Spock tilted his head; he had merely stated a fact -- in the most generous language possible considering.

Tyback came to his defense. _"Spock is correct, I am intellectually disadvantaged."_

Nyota looked at the other Vulcan, _"I am sure that is not true."_

"_It is true, I have an extremely poor memory," _Tyback said evenly. _"My scores on the Starfleet entrance exam are just beneath adequate. By Vulcan standards I am...quite… deficient."_

If Tyback felt any shame, sadness or anger at this it was not evident in his tone. He had admirable emotional control if nothing else.

Nyota's brow furrowed

Tyback apparently noticed. _"I do not understand. Miss Uhura, judging from your facial expression something seems to have made you...upset."_

Nyota aimed a furious glare at Spock and then put her arms across her chest._ "I am sure you do not like to be referred to in that way."_

_"To be emotionally compromised by such a statement would be illogical," _Tyback corrected. _"When I am reminded of my disadvantage it focuses my mind. It reminds me that I must work twice as hard as everyone else."_

Spock had come to similar conclusions when he was younger, although he had been motivated by anger too. He could detect no emotion in Tyback's voice or expression.

_"And I must work harder to cultivate the advantages I do have."_ Tyback finished.

Spock raised a dubious eyebrow. _"Advantages such as?"_

_"I am relatively proficient in engineering...compared to a human. And I have been told that I have an open mind...at least, for a Vulcan."_

There was an awkwardly long silence -- Nyota turned and looked at Spock. He tilted his head. What did she want him to say?

At last Tyback said, _"Excuse me, I must catch up with the other recruits. Chances are I will not be back to Earth again. Due to my disadvantage my Standard is very poor...obviously, with my disadvantage teaching me as a child would have been a waste of resources. It has put me at the bottom of the alternate list. I must see as much as I can now."_

Again all these words were spoken in a smooth, flat, voice -- if heavily accented by a provincial dialect.

Nyota swallowed. _"Would you like your own personal interpreter, Tyback? I notice the Council's translations are quite limited." _

It was an infinitesimal thing. Spock probably would not have noticed if he hadn't been raised on Vulcan...Tyback bounced ever so slightly on the balls of his feet. _"That would be most agreeable, Miss Uhura. But I do not wish to inconvenience you."_

_"It is not an inconvenience at all, apparently all the other potential recruits have no use for me…And I actually find your accent quite fascinating."_ Nyota told the Vulcan.

Tyback nodded at her, and then at Spock. Nyota gave Spock another sideways glance and then she and Tyback headed off together, Nyota trotting a bit to keep up with the Vulcan's long stride.

Spock tilted his head and watched them go. Her interest in languages had nearly gotten her kidnapped by Orion slave traders...it was difficult to tell if she was being moved by pity, or simply a desire to be the first to discover another unusual dialect.

Raising an eyebrow he exited the engineering lab. He meant to catch up with them but was immediately intercepted by another Vulcan recruit. _"Lieutenant Spock, there are reports that your most recent research revolves around deciphering the natural subspace noise of the Sol System. What logical purpose can this possibly serve?"_

Through most of the remainder of the day Spock did not get a chance to be with Nyota and Tyback. No matter what his fellow Vulcans might think of his 'revisionist leanings' they were certainly interested in his subspace research...and in reminding him how illogical it was to be studying the Sol System.

Of course he could not tell them about the Romulan transmission. All he could say was, "It was at the orders of my commanding officer." That a commanding officer could be so illogical was of great surprise to them. Their most common reply was, "To be under the command of someone so illogical is completely unacceptable." Spock wondered how many of the potential recruits would choose not to follow a career in Starfleet based on that anecdote alone.

He did watch Nyota and Tyback though. Tyback seemed determined to be at the front of the Vulcan recruits at all times. And he even shook _another_ human's hand when it was offered. Tyback might be many things, but he wasn't a coward.

Nyota was quite her professional self. But Spock did notice her smiling from time to time.

It was only at the end of the day that Spock finally got a chance to catch up with them.  
_  
"Lieutenant Spock,"_ Nyota said, _"Listen to this. Tyback was the only Vulcan not recommended to Starfleet by D'Zorack."_

Of course he knew that already...before he could say anything Nyota asked, _"So who recommended you?"_

Tyback responded, _"Some human scientists from Starfleet. They came to the agricultural research facility where I work."_

_"So you are a Vulcan agricultural scientist?"_ Nyota asked.

What part of 'intellectually disadvantaged' did she not understand?

_"No," _Tyback replied. _"I am a mechanic for the machinery at the research facility. The head mechanic...even though I am not quite nineteen Terran years old."_

Although he said this all without a trace of emotion, Spock thought perhaps the last part was spoken as though it were an accomplishment of some sort. At nineteen Spock had turned down the Vulcan Science Academy.

_"I became well acquainted with the human scientists. I was even able to help them repair some of their equipment from time to time,"_ Tyback went on. _"I thought I would likely never meet another human. So I talked to them quite frequently, and perhaps bothered them with questions quite incessantly. I always thought it would be fascinating to travel, to see the stars, but with my disadvantage thought it was quite unlikely. I thought talking to the humans at our research center would be the closest I would ever get."_

_"That is..." _Nyota said -- and then she switched to Standard, "so sad."

"Sad? _No, it was logical," _Tyback said quite easily and evenly. Again Spock noted his emotional control. _"I am not competent for anything more. Or so I thought. But upon reviewing my engineering scores, taking into account my Vulcan strength and other aspects of my Vulcan physiology...and my ability to speak Vulcan fluently, of course, the researchers thought I might be useful to Starfleet in some way...if I could learn Standard. So they encouraged me to apply._

_"I think it unlikely that I will be admitted. But it is fascinating to be here now."_

Nyota looked at Spock, _"They are retiring for the night and are going to be left to their own devices...Lets take Tyback out to see the city...and maybe to dinner first -- I was thinking of the Thai place?"_

Spock stared at her. He had hoped for a different sort of evening. One that involved her, him... mental _and _physical stimulation. Now she was planning on her, him and Tyback...which meant the evening would hardly be stimulating mentally or otherwise.

x x x x x x

Tyback saw Spock stare at Miss Uhura. He knew what the half Vulcan was thinking. _"Miss Uhura, it is impossible that Spock would find my company stimulating in any way."_

Spock's gaze turned to him. Tyback would never dream of putting Spock out, so he continued,_ "I am simply not that interesting. However, if you have not minded my company and wish to further analyze my accent, perhaps just the two of us could go?"_

Miss Uhura's mouth opened as though she was going to say something, and then something quite extraordinary happened.

_"I will of course accompany you to dinner, Cadet Uhura...and Tyback,"_ said Spock.

Tyback was...overwhelmed. He did not know what to say. Spock was...Spock. There was nothing he could say intellectually that Spock wouldn't already know. Spock was mentally far superior to him, despite a _human _parent. He had _turned down_ the Vulcan Science Academy. His skill at suus mahna was well known. He was a well known researcher. He was also quite an accomplished 3D chess player...

Spock and Miss Uhura started to walk; Spock motioned for Tyback to walk next to him.

Stepping fast to catch up he was for a moment unsure of what to say. And then Tyback had an inspiration. _"Lieutenant Spock, have you been able to follow this cycle's 3D chess championships on Vulcan?"_

In Standard Miss Uhura murmured, "Oh my God, has he ever."

Tyback actually understood that...well except for the reference to the deity. Tyback answered slowly in the same language. "Some humans say Vulcans follow 3D chess with fever human follow soccer."

"Vulcans-do-not-follow-3D-chess-with-fever-and-moreover-3D-chess-cannot-be-compared-to-a-sport-that-is-based-on-physical-force-and-minimal-strategy," said Spock.

said Spock.

"Pardon?" said Tyback.

Miss Uhura said slowly, "Lieutenant Spock, you check the rankings before your shift in the morning, at lunch, after work and...probably...before you go to..." she looked at Tyback, then back at Spock, "Please talk slowly so Tyback can understand you."

"So do you favor Kanar or T'Pang for semifinals?" Tyback asked. "I favor T'Pang. She come from my province. Her parents tractor operator where I work."

"I am certain her parents' occupations have nothing to do with her position in the rankings," said Spock. He took a deep breath, "Yes, I think she will win the semi-finals and has an excellent shot at the championship."

"We more in common then," said Tyback. One of Spock's eyebrows shot up, but Tyback was too overjoyed to wonder what it might mean. "I watch her playoff with Tenil in my province."

"Really?" Spock straightened, "I was not able to get the holos of those three matches..."

Tyback looked over at Spock and caught sight of Miss Uhura rolling her eyes. He wondered what it meant. He proceeded to tell Spock everything he remembered about the matches...Spock had many questions, some which he could not answer, but Tyback _did _have a _fairly_ good memory for 3D chess. Didn't everyone?

When they reached the restaurant Tyback marveled at the exotic decor. And then he marveled even more at the menu.

"What would you like to try?" asked Miss Uhura.

"Everything," Tyback admitted. Most likely he would only be here once.

Miss Uhura smiled. "We can order a few vegetarian dishes and share."

"That is good. I am very curious to try many. My human acquaintances say I am curious as cat," Tyback said, proud to use an idiom.

Spock raised an eyebrow in the way Tyback found so amazingly expressive.

"Did they mention curiosity killed the cat?" asked Spock.

Had the right corner of Spock's lips moved upwards five millimeters when he said that? Amazing! Spock could smile. Tyback had a personal theory that emotional displays eased interactions between humans. Tyback wasn't sure why Spock was smiling, but it was obvious Spock _was _gifted.

"Lieutenant!" said Miss Uhura, looking at his role model in a way that was not respectful at all. Then she looked back at him, "Don't worry Tyback, cats also have nine lives."

Spock's eyebrow dropped and his lips flattened. "I was merely providing another idiom for Tyback's enlightenment, Cadet."

"Is true? Do cats..." Tyback switched to Vulcan,_ "resuscitate nine times?"_

_"No," _said Spock.

_"It is an idiom," _said Miss Uhura.

Just then the waiter came to take the order. Miss Uhura and Spock both ordered a few dishes. They disagreed on a few of each others choices. They discussed between themselves the merits of the various dishes. They compromised. They discussed some more.

Suddenly a wave of understanding rushed over Tyback. They did not always agree. They discussed disagreements. Miss Uhura did not give undue respect to Spock, despite his rank.

"You are friends," he said. He was very pleased with his insightfulness.

They looked at each other a long moment, and then looked back to Tyback.

"Yes," said Miss Uhura.

Spock tilted his head. "In a manner of speaking, that is correct."

Tyback nodded. "That is good. Maybe if I come to Starfleet I have human friends too."

Some food arrived at the table. Tyback eyed it hungrily. He knew he wasn't supposed to eat excessively, but had no idea what that meant really. He decided he would only eat as much as Spock.

Spock ate disappointingly little. How did he manage that? It was so cold here in San Francisco. Tyback's internal furnace had been burning on high all day long. He was used to the opposite problem. He was from an equatorial region of his home world hot even for Vulcans. He closed his eyes and turned off the part of his brain urging him to eat everything that was on the table.

For a few minutes he was lost in the flavors of vegetarian spring rolls. The vegetables inside seemed amazingly plump with water. They probably didn't contain many calories. As wonderfully exotic as the flavors were that would probably be a problem.

He turned his mind to other things and considered what he had just learned about Spock and Miss Uhura's friendship. If there could be friendship between a human and Vulcan was it possible there could be more? There was something he needed to resolve that might be a problem if he entered Starfleet. Or even if he didn't...

Tyback spoke in Vulcan to Spock. _"Do you think bonding between humans and Vulcans is possible...or do you think that your father and mother were a singular exception?_"

Spock and Miss Uhura both stared at him.

Tyback hastened to explain. _"I am intellectually disadvantaged and without family...I am unbonded and must consider all of my options."  
_  
He did have to consider his options. He had experienced a very difficult Pon Farr at fourteen, perhaps because he was unbonded. He would not survive alone at twenty-one. He could have bonded with one of his fellow mechanics at the research farm...but he had the opportunity to see the stars and she did not see the logic of it. Now she was bonded to someone else.

Perhaps if he was accepted into Starfleet he would be considered a more eligible mate. Or perhaps not.

There was dead silence at the table. Miss Uhura and Spock were staring straight at him, although occasionally Miss Uhura's eyes would look sideways at Spock.

Tyback noted Spock was suddenly much more Vulcan. He no longer displayed any outward signs of emotion.

_"I apologize,"_ Tyback said switching back to his native tongue, _"I have said something wrong."_

Then with a flash of inspiration he said in Standard, "Curiosity kill cat...yes?"

Miss Uhura laughed.

Spock's eyebrows rose, his eyes went sideways in Miss Uhura's direction, and then back to Tyback.

**A/N:**

Will work its way into main plot...promise. But it is also dedicated to all my brilliant students in Japan who were deemed 'not very smart' because they weren't cut out for rote memorization.


	65. The Cat

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.**

**The Cat…**

Tyback's entire life was spilled out now for Spock to read. He had no family. That would explain why he had not received any treatment as a child to correct his mental deficiency. Logically there was no shame in being mentally deficient if it was due to biological mishap or accident -- and Vulcan needed tractor operators too. However, in practice, Vulcan parents would rarely allow this to happen, an orphanage on the other hand...

Without family or much in the way of prospects Tyback was unbonded. Undoubtedly, the orphanage that had raised him would have tried to arrange a bonding...but these things fell through.

He was now unbonded, approaching nineteen and planning for his next Pon Farr in two years. He was considering all of his options. It was logical.

Spock was not without sympathy. But something else caught his attention. "Tyback, you just used an idiom in an unexpected way."

Tyback stared at him. "Was this wrong? Humans say I am like cat...and I say..." he switched to Vulcan, _"I said something that abruptly ended the conversation in a way that caused discomfort and alienated me from my new companions, possibly ending the acquaintance. Therefore..." _he switched back to Standard, "Curiosity kill cat."

"No, it is not wrong," said Spock, even more impressed. It hadn't been an accident.

Nyota tilted her head and leaned closer to the other Vulcan. She had the same expression on her face she had when translating a particularly difficult alien language. "No, it isn't wrong at all."

"Most Vulcans do not use idioms in a _metaphorical_ way as you just did." Spock said, translating the difficult word into Vulcan for Tyback's benefit.

"But humans do," said Nyota.

Nyota turned, looked at Spock and raised an eyebrow. Spock raised an eyebrow back, he suspected they were probably thinking the same thing. At least in some ways Tyback was actually...gifted. In unison they both turned their eyes to the other Vulcan.

"So I eight more lives?" Tyback asked.

"Fascinating," said Spock.

Nyota experienced the Pavlovian Vulcan Giggle Response and then said, "Starfleet entrance exams are conducted in Standard, Spock."

"Yes." Spock replied guessing where this was going. He had some reservations, but if she was thinking about trying to assist Tyback he wasn't completely opposed.

"Excuse us for one minute," said Nyota to Tyback.

She switched to Klingon, _"Spock, he is not mentally deficient or disadvantaged."_

He answered in kind, _"I disagree. But he also has interesting abilities..."_

x x x x x x x

They were arguing. About him. He was almost sure of it. They found something interesting enough about him to be worth discussing. How incredibly flattering.

"How long have you been studying Standard?" asked Spock suddenly switching back to a language Tyback almost understood.

_"Off and on since my fifth year of schooling to be prepared in the rare event that the opportunity to leave Vulcan would arise. More devotedly in the past thirteen Terran months...__approximately. I am unable to remember the exact number of days, minutes and seconds because..."_

"That is enough, thank you. Excuse us," said his role model switching to another language. He hadn't gotten upset at Tyback's inadequate date -- apparently among his other qualities Spock was unusually compassionate.

A few minutes later Miss Uhura asked, "Who is teaching you?"

"Holos, self study, talk human researchers..." Tyback responded.

"Do you have access to subspace communication, Tyback?" She asked quickly.

"I can have."

"Thanks. Excuse us for being rude, but we don't have much time," and then she turned back to Spock and switched to another language Tyback didn't understand.

Tyback's eyes went back and forth between Spock and the increasingly animated human woman.

Spock was expressive. His eyebrows went up -- sometimes one, sometimes even both. And he tilted his head. Tyback wasn't sure what Spocks' expressions meant. He was just surprised Spock had so many expressions.

The woman on the other hand...appeared very angry. Her hands moved, her brow furrowed, her voice went up and down...at one point she said in what sounded like very fast Standard, "GoddamnVulcanInterspeciesCounciltheydon'tlikeyoueither!" and then banged her fist on the table. It was quite shocking.

Her emotions were actually a little much for Tyback. There were a few instances he was sure Miss Uhura would strike Spock -- in public. A few times Tyback would have drawn back from the woman's furiously moving hands. Spock did not. He was obviously very brave.

Tyback did wish they would eat more. Although he was flattered by the attention he was terribly hungry. The rule against eating adequate amounts of sustenance was incredibly illogical.

At last Spock turned to Tyback and said, "We have reached a decision. You will come back with me to my office and take the Starfleet entrance exam again. But I will translate it into Vulcan for you."

"I am coming too. Tomorrow is Saturday so it won't matter if I miss some sleep," said Miss Uhura.

At those words one of Spock's eyebrows shot up. He looked at Tyback and said, "Please excuse us again." And then he switched to yet another language Tyback did not recognize and began talking to Miss Uhura once more.

In the end, after a delicious, but incredibly small dinner, Tyback wound up in Spock's office taking the Starfleet exam again...in Vulcan. Miss Uhura was there too. Apparently she had to email a certain Ashanti Patel about something. Afterwards she helped Spock make sure all the exam questions were translated accurately and graded Tybacks answers as he finished them.

However, at a certain point Miss Uhura literally began falling over in her chair. Tyback was incredibly alarmed. Was she sick?

Spock reacted as though it were just an ordinary everyday event. "Cadet, perhaps you should go to sleep?"

"No," she replied, "I am fine."

Spock said nothing in response, he just stared at her.

Maybe humans were slightly telepathic? Or maybe…No, Spock had said they were friends.

Miss Uhura's brow furrowed. Putting her PADD down heavily on Spock's desk she crossed her arms over her chest and thrust out her chin.

Spock continued to stare...looking like quite the Vulcan.

And then she took a deep breath, sighed, got up and said, "Alright, I admit, you're right." Then she walked out of the office into the other room.

Tyback heard a cabinet opening and closing in the lab.

"Lieutenant Spock," Tyback whispered after a few minutes of silence in the other room. "Are all humans so..._expressive_?" He said the last word in Vulcan.

_"No,"_ Spock replied in Vulcan eyes not leaving the PADD he was grading. _"But my mother is similarly animated."_

_"Ah...so your disadvantage has served you well,"_ said Tyback.

Spock suddenly straightened, and his head turned very quickly towards Tyback. It was a motion Tyback had seen in the predatory reptiles that Vulcans used to kill pests that threatened their crops.

Spock said in a very smooth voice, _"I do not consider my mother's heritage to be a disadvantage." _Tyback noticed his lower eyelid twitched ever so slightly when he said this.

At that moment Tyback suddenly had a revelation. He had thought that Spock's expressiveness was just an affectation that Spock used to ease his interactions with humans. But then, at that moment he began to wonder if Spock's expressiveness wasn't an affectation at all...maybe it was a genuine display of emotion he could not control. He pondered it momentarily, and then decided it didn't matter if it was unintentional.

_"I suppose it is not,"_ Tyback said. _"It must ease your interactions here a great deal. You are unusually expressive for a Vulcan..."_

One of Spock's eyebrows shot up.

_"Yes like that..."_ said Tyback.

_"My father is similarly expressive in this manner,"_ Spock replied.

Tyback had seen Spock's father on news holos. He thought he remembered an eyebrow being raised slightly...He did not remember Sarek being as expressive as Spock. Perhaps in private Ambassador Sarek was different? Perhaps being bonded to a human meant picking up some human mannerisms? That was an interesting theory, maybe at some point he could test it...Tyback decided it did not detract from his main point.

_"But your mixed parentage must have given you unusual insights into both human and Vulcan behavior. Perhaps, it is an advantage."_

Spock stared at him a moment, and then returned to his PADD.

_"Perhaps. Return to work Tyback. You still have to take the exams in history and subspace physics."_

x x x x x x

Tyback was finished. Morning light was starting to appear in the east, although it was slightly veiled by a blanket of fog.

Spock was reviewing Tyback's answers while Nyota slept in the lab.

In history if a date that was required Tyback invariably had missed the question. Spock was shocked that Tyback even missed the date of Vulcan's first warp mission -- he was off by a month. He did better remembering equations for math and science, but was not infallible, despite the fact that he had apparently studied especially hard for those sections before taking the original exam.

In the Vulcan education system, memory was considered next to logic, as the primary determinant of success…and ease of memorization was something even the least intellectually gifted Vulcan took for granted. No wonder Tyback had been labeled disadvantaged.

However...although Tyback didn't know dates he remembered broad themes. He did fine when analyzing the meaning of passages of literature. He grasped metaphors exceedingly well, which was an accomplishment for a Vulcan. If he was given an equation and asked to solve a problem he always succeeded. And he got nearly a perfect score on the pattern recognition part of the exam that was considered 'culturally neutral' -- it measured the 'g' quotient, an old Terran measure of intelligence.

In the end, taken together, Tyback scores were slightly above the average Academy cadet. Had he made the same scores on the Standard version of the exam he would have been easily admitted, if not considered a candidate for future valedictorian.

The problem was his Standard...Starfleet Academy wasn't in the business of correcting remedial problems in language comprehension. Nor should it be. Starfleet's business was preparing Cadets to become officers who could protect the Federation.

The primary point of contention earlier with Nyota had been just how proficient Tyback's Standard would need to be before admittance to Starfleet would be a realistic option.

Spock put the PADD he was looking at on his desk and steepled his fingers.

"Problem is Standard," Tyback said.

"Yes," said Spock. "If we can fix that, we can help you."

Was helping Tyback enter Starfleet really helping when all the variables were considered?

_"Tyback, I am not from..."_ Spock wasn't sure what the word was for it, society? Caste? Socio-economic group? _"...your community. I do not know if being accepted into Starfleet will be an assett or a hindrance in trying to find a bond-mate."_

_"I do not know either. It has turned one away already."_

_"I see."_

Looking at the Vulcan sitting across from him Spock thought back to how easily Tyback discussed his disadvantage. How he turned his disadvantage around to use it as a motivator.

Tyback said he had no family. Was he a bastard? Had his parents died and his extended family not taken him in because of the perceived burden of his disadvantage? He had not shown any shame when he admitted he was alone. He had said it as merely a fact. It was just another obstacle for him to overcome.

Sitting up straight, Tyback's face was at this moment serene, emotionless. Except for the slight head tilt and the odd scowl he had displayed earlier it was the same expression Tyback had worn all day.

Right now Tyback's hands were loosely clasped and resting on the desk. They were much larger hands than Spock's. When he had taken the exam Tybacks huge hands had held the PADD's and the stylus awkwardly. And even from across the table Spock could see Tybacks hands were rough and callused.

As the owner of these hands discussed the potential for his death in two years the fingers on his hands did not flutter or quiver. Spock would like to think that he would have the same coolness if their situations were reversed.

If emotional control was the ultimate distinction of his father's people, in a way, Tyback was the quintessential Vulcan.

Spock looked at his own neat long fingers. _"Tyback, I can tell you that it will be more difficult to find a bond-mate on Earth. Human courtship rituals are varied and confusing. They take our lack of outward expression to be a sign of lack of inner emotion."_

_"But you are not saying it is impossible."_

_"Obviously, I am proof that it is not."_ In two ways, Spock supposed. _"It depends on the Vulcan and the human. Both need to be open minded."_

_"I have an open mind."_

Tyback was only the second Vulcan who had ever considered Spock's human heritage to be a potential advantage. _ "Yes, I believe you do, Tyback."_

_"Miss Uhura, she is very expressive, but open minded,"_ Tybak said looking toward the office door.

Spock took a deep breath. Of course, when faced with death it would be logical for Tyback to consider _all_ options. Spock switched to Standard...where definitions were so much looser. "Yes. But as her friend, I can tell you, she is already taken."

It wasn't a lie, not in Standard anyway. It was however, deceptive, given Tyback's limited understanding of the tongue. In Vulcan bond-mates were bond-mates, friends were friends. Both were deep and meaningful, but obviously different. In Standard one could be both life partner and friend.

"Ah, friend would know. Thank you," Tyback said, and then switched to Vulcan,_ "I must concentrate on available options."_

"Yes." Spock raised an eyebrow. "And you must keep all of your remaining eight lives."

**A/N:**

Just started a new collection of random stories called "Descartes Drabbles"...if you're interested in more Tyback...and Spock, Nyota...possibly Jabari and Rhin too!

I had visions of Nyota, Tyback and Spock having a lovely, dreamy time in San Francisco together...but then I realized Spock would totally grill the guy. Because Spock is logical like that. (And I don't think Spock is wrong in that either. Also, I don't necessarily think that Nyota was necessarily super angry at Spock, I think Tyback may have perceived her frustration with the situation as anger at Spock).


	66. Breakfast

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock, Nyota or Startrek. Tyback isn't for sale.**

I went back and made Tyback's Standard experience a little more extensive (but no more formal). In Japan I met a number of people who studied English as a hobby and were quite good at it (bartenders, housewives, etc.) They never actually expected to leave Japan though…

**Breakfast**

Tyback's hair was still wet. And he was starving. According to the hotel room clock it was three hours since Spock had dropped him off at the hotel -- after he and Spock had dropped Ms. Uhura off at her dorm.

Tyback might wind up in a dorm in the fall. For the first time he was allowing himself to think of the idea as a serious possibility. Just work hard...Keep an open mind...He could do that. He'd always done that.

As obtainable as the goal seemed he still had spent the last two hours and forty-five minutes meditating in the bath tub. Ms. Uhura had told him that the dorms had showers, if not bathtubs, but there was also a pool to submerge himself in....still it was perfectly logical to take advantage of opportunities as they arose.

Shouldering his bag, an Earth style duffel given to him by one of his human acquaintances on Vulcan, Tyback made his way down to the hotel lobby and towards the dining room. Today after breakfast he and the rest of the potential Vulcan cadets were on their way to view other Starfleet installations on Earth.

In a corner of the lobby Tyback saw Spock and one of the council members.  
_  
"Lieutenant Spock,"_ the council member was saying in Vulcan,_ "your account of your research into the Sol System this spring has dissuaded no less than twenty three potential recruits."_

_"I responded to direct questions with direct responses,"_ Spock said.

_"Perhaps there is something more that was revealed by your research that you would choose to share with them. We have noticed that you have received a great deal of attention from the Chancellor -- as well as being nominated for a researcher of the year award."_

Spock caught Tyback's gaze and nodded in his direction. The council member turned and looked at Tyback.

Tyback nodded at both of them. The council member did not nod in reply.

Spock turned back to the older man. _"I cannot comment on my research on the Sol System by direct order of my commanding officer..."_

And then Tyback entered the dining room and was momentarily transfixed by the sight before him. There was an easel with a sign that read in Standard:_ Vulcan Recruits - Breakfast Buffet_. Tyback understood Vulcan and Recruits. There was a long table filled to the edges with food -- that must be the breakfast buffet.

Eyes lingering on a plate heaped with exotic fruits of every color his ears caught the sound of a familiar agitated tone from across the dining room. It was Ms. Uhura in a very animated argument with the head of the Interspecies Council...what was his name?

_"I still think that telepathy and communication differences in the brains of proto-Romulans and proto-Vulcans could be at the heart of the divide, D'Zorack,"_ she said.

Ah, yes...D'Zorack...

Tyback stood duffle bag still over his shoulder not even a meter from the table. His attention riveted to the food. Strange grain like substances were in large bowls in the center. Pitchers of cool liquids that dripped with condensation stood next to the bowls. He read labels that said in Standard, _cow's milk, soy milk, almond milk, rice milk, hemp seed milk, orange juice._..

_"This is all speculation at this point Ms. Uhura. Now you must excuse me."_

There were no other recruits down in the dining hall yet. He had come early. He was so hungry. He had hoped someone would have begun eating by now so he could too.

Dimly he heard a noise that sound like_ "huppf"_ from across the room.

Breads and crackers of every variety and nearly liquid substances also packed the table. He read the descriptive plaques beneath some of them: _butter, peanut butter, cashew nut butter, almond butter_...Nearby there was a pyramid of tiny yellow and cream colored squares labeled mysteriously as _cheese._

He had no idea what these foods were. But his body apparently had decided they were all edible. Closing his eyes Tyback mentally willed the saliva glands in his mouth to stop secreting.

And then he heard Ms. Uhura's voice speak quietly in Vulcan just next to his left shoulder,_ "Tyback, are you...hungry?"_

He took a deep breath. _"Yes,"_ he replied in Vulcan. He felt a little light headed.

_"You didn't eat anything since last night, did you? And you ate barely as much as me at dinner,"_ she said.

It was true. Of course, he could tell his body to start drawing reserves from his muscle mass and bone marrow; he didn't have much body fat to speak of, especially after yesterday. Vulcans could technically go without food for long periods of time if needed, but that wasn't exactly a healthy option, moreover...

_"It is not logical not to eat one's fill when food is plentiful," _Tyback said.

She laughed._ "I agree one hundred percent."_ Then she whispered,_ "If you're looking for calories go for the cashew, peanut or almond butter...Spock likes almond butter."_ He turned to look down at her, the words 'thank you' were almost on his lips when out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of one of D'Zorack standing not a meter and a half behind them.

How long had he been there?

Tyback decided that it wasn't logical to care. He was hungry. And the Vulcan Interspecies Council had not, and were not going to help him get into Starfleet. Ms. Uhura was. And she apparently saw the illogical nature of the situation.

He dropped his bag without ceremony next to an open dining table. Walking down to the end of the buffet he grabbed a bowl, a spoon and a clean ladle that looked like it belonged to a thin gruel of something called _oatmeal_. Without any hesitation he began ladling almond butter into the bowl.

x x x x x x

_"Do you see what he has done?" _Taleun asked.

_"Apparently he has helped himself to several bowls of various nut butters," _said Spock to the Interspecies Council Member. _ "I strongly suspect that he was not advised by the appropriate parties to bring caloric supplements with him for the journey."_

Spock turned meaningfully to the Interspecies Council Member.

_"He was not recommended by us."_

_"But it is your job to assist Vulcans at Starfleet, is it not?" _Spock asked.  
_  
"It is our job to find and assist suitable candidates for the Academy. Tyback is not an acceptable representative of Vulcan."_

Spock tilted his head. _"After spending considerable time with Tyback I have found him, aside from the current display, to be nearly the epitome of emotional control and logic. And indeed, from a certain standpoint, even his current behavior is perfectly logical..."_

Spock looked across the dining room at where Tyback had moved on from nut butters and was munching on a bowl of fruit. He was talking to Cadet Uhura who seemed not at all phased by the amount of calories he had consumed. She never saw the logic in concealing the appetite, and had she protested how much he was eating it would have been rude...

_"Spock, you do understand how the reputation and the authority Vulcan has worked so hard to cultivate could be destroyed should our appetites be revealed?"_

Spocks eyes swept around the room. There were humans here. How could Taleun talk about this in public, even in Vulcan? _"This is not an appropriate topic for a public place."_ Spock whispered.

_"At least we have one point of agreement,"_ said the council member.

Spock stared at him. _"Excuse me, I find myself in need of sustenance." _ Nodding curtly Spock entered the dining room, passing D'Zorack as he entered.

x x x x x x

Tyback stood at the entrance of the hotel as the Vulcans around him loaded into the shuttle. His stomach was full. And he was about to see more of this new planet...and yet he was sad to depart.

_"Remember,"_ Spock said in Vulcan, _"You must achieve a score on the Standard Proficiency Exam of 70% for me to recommend you to Starfleet."_

_"If he writes a recommendation for you, Tyback, you will get in. The Admiral and the Chancellor know us by name now." _Miss Uhura said.

_"...for both written and spoken portions..."_ Spock continued.

_"Don't worry, Tyback,"_ said Ms. Uhura, _"Ashanti Patel has experience teaching Standard as a second language. She'll have you up to speed in no time...She is so excited to study your dialect...and since she will be studying your dialect we will be able to get Starfleet to pay for all the subspace calls."_

_"It would be illogical to worry," _said Tyback. He nodded at Spock, _"I expect that barring injuries or accidents you will be writing a recommendation for me before the final alternates are selected this summer."_

_"Indeed,"_ said Spock.

Tyback stared at them both for a few long moments, unsure of what to say. Behind him he could hear the final call to board the shuttle.

_"You had better go, Tyback," _said Ms. Uhura.

_"Indeed."_ Tyback nodded once more at them both and said, _"I hope at some point I shall be able to call you friends."_

x x x x x x

Spock and Nyota watched Tyback's shuttle depart. Spock was tired and hungry, and it was dawning on him how much support Tyback would really need to get through Starfleet. He would need a job for extra credits for food and extra clothing; he would need someone to send him care packages of caloric supplements throughout basic training...

"Have I told you recently how much I like you?" Nyota said next to him.

Spock looked down at her and raised an eyebrow.

"What? Do you require an explanation?" Nyota asked.

Looking around to assure they were alone Spock responded, "I think I would prefer a demonstration."

She smiled up at him.

Much later after what Nyota referred to as a 'snap'...the last three letters referred to a 'nap', the first letter referred to something decidedly less passive, Spock was idly stroking Nyota's temple. The distinct pleasant buzzing sensation that meant she thought something was funny came unexpectedly across his finger tips.

"What is it, my Nyota?" he asked.

"Ashanti always thought you were good looking," she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow, "And you find her perception of me amusing because...?"

"Well, I just wonder if by setting her up to tutor Tyback in Standard I might have accidentally gotten him a long haired interpreter. "

Spock tilted his head. Eight more lives indeed.

**A/N:**  
For people reading How the Mighty and Drabbles just had to throw the last part in.  
Enough of this story arc!

Thank you so much for reading everyone. I know this has been a long haul. I'm glad that some of you are still here enjoying it. I get paid in Reviews, so if you like it (or if you don't like it) pls drop me a line.


	67. The Spiral

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock, Nyota or Star Fleet Academy.  
**  
Thanks to Beta Reader Notes from the Classroom!

**The Spiral**

The time from Tyback's departure to mid-May slipped by.

Spock taught his classes, wrote his paper, and prepared for the Multidimensional Physics Conference with Nyota -- in the event that the transmission was verified. He tried to catch up with Xelium on his warp drive improvements from time to time. But other than to say it was going well, Xelium did not speak to him. Spock was taken aback by this; he had thought that he had shown ample support and almost even enthusiasm for the Professor's work.

He had what humans called a personal life, too. There was Nyota, of course. Things proceeded with her in the pleasant rhythm they had been in before. There was one fascinating development. As the months had gone by it seemed his mother spent more time talking to Nyota on her weekly subspace calls than to Spock himself. Nyota told his mother of their trips together, their interactions with their colleagues, and of course of Tyback.

His mother was so taken with Tyback's story that she was determined to be Tyback's one woman support network...there would be no shortage of caloric supplements in Basic Training for him.

Spock still interacted regularly with Patrick and Toshi, too. There were plenty of games of 5D chess and games of 3D chess with other students and professors around the campus. Cadet Chekhov was getting more and more proficient at beating him. It was quite satisfying to have a real challenge.

Spock had a birthday April twenty-second. He turned 27. For his birthday Nyota gave him a copy of Napolean's March by Charles Joseph Minard. Toshi and Patrick took him out drinking. Not that he got drunk, but he did enjoy the company.

And then late one night at an informal department outing Nyota slipped and touched Spock in public.

It was at the Commander's house. Spock, Nyota, Patrick, Katie, Toshi and Yuki wound up outside at a picnic table on the patio. Everyone but Spock was intoxicated.

Nyota was describing how Spock helped her find the complete sample for the Romulan transmission.

"So I thanked him for helping me find the rest of the recording...'Thank you thank you thank you Lieutenant Spock', I said."

"In point of fact you said, 'So you did think that there was something worth looking into in this sample'," Spock corrected.

Katie and Yumi both giggled. Patrick gave a snort.

"And then the good Lieutenant here said..." at this point in the narrative Nyota gently touched his shoulder, raised a dramatic eyebrow, dropped her voice and said in actually a very good impression, "'No, Cadet, I performed the analysis and search to prove you wrong.'"

The whole table burst out laughing. The hand that was on his shoulder flitted away as gracefully as a butterfly before Spock had even contrived an appropriate response to it. And no one seemed to notice or care.

x x x x x x x

In mid-May Spock's commlink buzzed. It was Commander Sharpton. "Why don't you and Cadet Uhura come down here?"

When they walked into the office Toshi and Patrick were there. All three of the other officers' faces were oddly unreadable. Spock immediately wondered what was wrong.

"Lieutenant Spock," the Commander said, "the transmission is real. I just received word from Vulcan."

Nyota's face assumed the same blank mask as Patrick, Toshi's, and the Commander's. "Wow..." she said, her brow furrowing, "I think there was a part of me that still didn't believe."

"Yeah," said Patrick.

Toshi looked at the ground and shook his head.

Spock was mystified by their reactions.

"Well," said the Commander, "a little celebration is in order. A little bird told me that you actually like a good glass of Scotch...Lieutenant Commander Spock."

"Hear, hear!" said Patrick, his mood immediately lifted. He spun to a bookshelf behind him and pulled out a bottle and a flask of what must have been water. Toshi followed with some glasses.

"It's the Commander's Macallan 30 year single malt, Spock!" said Patrick excitedly.

"My not so secret stash," the Commander grumbled. "So, Lieutenant Commander, are you and Cadet Uhura finished with your paper and preparing the presentation?"

"It is almost complete, Commander."

"Good," said Sharpton. "I'm sure you will be presenting the methods, Spock….will you be presenting the transmission itself?"

Nyota stiffened next to Spock.

"No," Spock replied, "I had thought that Cadet Uhura would present that portion. It was due to her that the transmission was found. In addition, her input in the final translation was as great if not greater..."

"Oh, thank God," muttered Patrick.

"Good choice, Lieutenant Commander," said Sharpton. "We were a little worried...that the tone of your delivery would not fit the occasion..."

Spock tilted his head, unsure of what that meant.

"Are you ready, Cadet?" asked the Commander.

Nyota swallowed. She was not ready, Spock knew. She knew that presenting was important for her career, and this particular presentation was of immense importance to her. But she was nervous, too. "I will be, Commander," Nyota said.

The Commander nodded.

"Here," said Patrick handing her and Spock a glass of scotch. "This will help."

They all drank a toast to Spock's promotion, Nyota's sharp...yet rounded...ears, and Captain Kalanel.

"Now the circus begins," the Commander said, looking into her glass.

x x x x x x

The Academy decided not to leak news of the transmission to the press right away; it was decided to keep it a surprise for the Multidimensional Physics Conference. But even still Spock and Nyota found themselves whisked away again to meetings with Admirals and Chancellors, and according to Nyota, 'just about every Federation representative from Earth'...this was an exaggeration though. It was only nine of the one hundred or so representatives.

They had their holos taken together -- alone a few times, often with whatever important personage they happened to be meeting. Spock became accustomed to having himself directed to stand with Nyota's body touching his own. It was odd. Obviously, when the back of her shoulder grazed his chest through their uniforms it was not the most intimate contact they experienced together...but because it was in public it felt intimate, and comfortable at the same time.

He liked having her within his sphere. Especially when important personages' eyes lingered too long on her legs. Often after those important personages let their eyes wander from Nyota's feet up to her more central assets, they'd find Spock's eyes gazing hard into their own. Spock noticed with some satisfaction they would invariably cough and nervously look away.

The 'bigwigs,' as Nyota referred to them -- although Spock noticed no wigs and only one rather unfortunate case of hairline replacement therapy gone awry -- were 'in' on the secret of the transmission. And they were supposed to keep it confidential.

Spock commented to Toshi at one point, "If keeping the transmission's contents a secret is the goal, it seems illogical to share the information with so many other people. Each and every one is a potential leak."

"Everyone you're meeting now is very powerful, Spock," Toshi responded. "They don't need influence. They don't need money. So Starfleet panders for their favor by sharing a non-critical secret. They'll be able to tell their friends and acquaintances that they met the discoverers of one of the greatest scientific and historical finds of the century before it even went public...

"It is the perfect gift for the human who has it all," Toshi sighed. "Eh...It's all politics, my friend."

Of course, Spock was right...sharing the secret of the transmission did lead to leaks...and it was the evening after a casual lunch with Nyota that Spock realized they were being watched.

**A/N:**  
FYI: Changed the first chapters to make Spock Lieutenant Commander. I verified with someone that he would be promoted immediately after a big achievement. I wasn't sure if everyone was promoted at once.

If you miss him, Tyback is in _Descartes Drabbles_ /Chapter 1 & 4

and in_ How the Mighty Have Fallen_ / Chapter 8 - Betrayal.

Thank you so much for reading all the way to the bottom of this page! Reviews are how we get paid. If you enjoyed this...or didn't and want to vent, please leave a note. Thanks everyone!


	68. Fame

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock, Nyota or Star Fleet Academy.**

Thanks to Beta Reader Notes from the Classroom!

**Fame  
**  
They were leaving a restaurant after a casual lunch. It was a weekday and they were both in uniform.

Spock was looking down at the ground, hands clasped behind his back. Nyota was speaking very animatedly in a mishmash of languages, _"I think I should present a brief summary of the Romulan language, and then I should have Kalanel's voice broadcast through the auditorium and instead of me reading the..."_

She stopped. "Lieutenant Commander, _are we being watched?"_

Spock's eyes shot up and he caught sight of a human darting behind a shuttle craft.

Spock tilted his head._ "I do not know, _Cadet."

_"It was probably just my imagination,"_ Nyota said. Then she continued along her previous line of thought in Trill. _"So...what do you think? I think what I'm proposing would have greater emotional impact..." _

Later that evening Nyota's suspicions were confirmed. Spock and Nyota were preparing dinner when his comm went off.

"It is the Commander," Spock said.

Nyota nodded at him and moved to be out of view of the comm camera.

Answering the comm, Spock was immediately greeted by the Commander's voice in full direct order mode. "Spock, turn on the holo news now! Channel 738-alpha."

Skipping formalities Spock did as he was told. He saw a brief five second shot of Nyota and himself from a distance followed by a cut to the Admiral leaving the Starfleet Academy. A voice off the screen was saying, "What about the rumors that two of your researchers have discovered a new first contact, Admiral?"

"I have no comment on the matter," the Admiral replied, not even acknowledging the holo camera.

"Did you hear that, Spock?" the Commander said. "That is what I want your statement to be if you are questioned."

"Acknowledged, Commander."

"Good, I'll call Uhura."

"It would be no problem for me to contact her, Commander," Spock said.

"Okay, do that then," the Commander said. "By the way, what language were you speaking? Apparently it confused everyone over at Channel 738-alpha."

"We were speaking in a combination of Trill, Klingon, Ferrengi and Vulcan. The main language was Trill but..."

The Commander cut him off. "No need to tell me more, Spock. Just keep it up in public."

"Very, well. I will contact Cadet Uhura now."

She nodded at him and smiled, "See you tomorrow, my favorite Wunderkind."

Spock hastily closed the comm and looked up at Nyota.

"I guess I should not come over for a while...in case they show up here," she said.

Nyota and Spock hardly if ever entered or left his flat together. And if a picture was captured of her leaving the building alone...or even together, it would not be grounds for an investigation. It technically wasn't forbidden for her to be here with him. It was just inadvisable and highly discouraged.

They needed to avoid the appearance of impropriety...again. Spock felt a weight settling on his shoulders.

"I'll get ready to go..." she said.

"Nyota," Spock said slipping into his native tongue without a second thought, _"Stay here for just awhile tonight."_

She nodded. _"Yes...my Spock."_

He flicked a switch on the comm so they would not be disturbed and moved towards her. The blackness she called Vulcan love was welling up inside of him and the instant he touched her temple she moaned.  
_  
"Take off your clothes,"_ he whispered, not touching her anywhere except for her temples. As soon as he did there would be no holding back.

She gave him a look that he would have thought was anger if they hadn't been linked...but he knew was just the build up of lust and frustration. _"You, too,"_ she muttered with a look of challenge in her eyes.

Mostly, when they made love it was light and it was human. This was not going to be one of those times. Spock didn't know when he would have a chance to be with her completely again. Now he needed to possess and be possessed by her completely. Or that darkness in him did; sometimes it felt like it was another person.

As soon as their clothes were stripped it was like a coiled spring was set loose and he was on her. One hand went to her temples, one knee slipped between her legs, and the other hand went to lift her up around his waist.  
_  
"My Vulcan,"_ Nyota whispered, her legs tightening around him.

He barely heard. _"Please, mark me."_

As she dug her nails into his back he sank his teeth into the skin of her shoulder.

x x x x x x

A week went by, and Spock and Nyota met only on Starfleet property...or when they were trotted out to meet more "bigwigs." Nyota said she was beginning to feel like a "prize monkey." Spock had no empathic understanding of what feeling like a "prize monkey" meant, but he was certainly getting annoyed by the attention.

Spock finished his paper, and he and Nyota finished their presentation -- there were a lot of visual and audio aids to consider.

Nyota was even more determined than ever to perform well on stage...and more nervous than ever. She admitted that all of the attention had her "spooked." It was a perplexing quirk of her personality. She had no problem defending her ideas one on one, wasn't at all uncomfortable around superior officers--or Vulcan council members for that matter-- but she had "stage fright." And there wasn't much Spock could do about it.

Sometimes before a big exam Nyota would spend the night at Spock's. She was far too organized to ever cram for a test -- she would spend an hour or so reviewing material, but then would do her best just to relax. One of her favorite ways to do this was to lie on top of Spock, the "human sized hot water bottle" and let him massage her temples while she slowly fell to sleep. Obviously, this relaxation method was no longer an option...and even smaller gestures of contact were forbidden to them.

And unfortunately, Spock wasn't one for motivational speeches. Somehow, comments like, "I am sure you will perform to the best of your ability," fell flat.

They didn't even feel like they could talk freely in the lab. In the end, even though they shouldn't have, they both got a little reckless. Sometimes when the coast was clear and they were tucked away in his office one of them would raise their palms upward and the other would brush it lightly. These touches never lasted for more than a moment but they brought them both some release.

Still...they wanted to get away. On the Thursday, the week before the conference Nyota was practicing her presentation with Spock in his office when they heard a cough from the lab. Without looking Spock knew immediately who it was. "Come in, Professor Matsumura." Toshi always coughed when he entered the lab now. Spock wondered if he had developed an allergy.

"Hello, Yumi and I were wondering if you would like to come to our house this weekend...just for dinner with Patrick, Katie, Yumi and me...one last time before the big day." He looked at Nyota, "It would be good for you to relax."

"Yes," both Spock and Nyota exclaimed in unison.

It was like being tossed a life preserver.

Over the weekend Spock sat next to Nyota on the picnic table under the stars and took part in one of those meandering human conversations about everything with Patrick, Katie, Yumi and Toshi. At one point Spock shifted infinitesimally and found himself a little too close to Nyota...her shoulder brushed against his. And no one noticed...or did not care...and Spock decided he didn't care either.

**A/N:  
**Whew! Everyone thanks for reading! I love hearing from you.


	69. The Big Lie

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock / Nyota or Starfleet**

**  
**Thanks to Beta Reader Notes from the Classroom!

**The Big Lie**

"I can't smile anymore," Patrick said. "Can I be like Spock and just scowl?"

"I am not scowling," said Spock.

"You're human, Patrick. Smile," said Commander Sharpton.

"Toshi isn't smiling," protested Patrick.

"I am Japanese; we don't smile in professional photos."

"My face hurts," said Nyota through clenched teeth. "Would you just be quiet, Lieutenant Commander, so we can get this over with?"

A holo flash went on and the holographer finally said, "That's a wrap. We got it."

Even Spock's shoulders slumped a little bit in relief.

"Whew! Now I can get back to the lab..." said Patrick pulling at the collar of his dress uniform.

"Not so fast. We get to meet Earth's envoy to Romulus," said the Commander.

"I thought Romulus didn't accept our envoys," said Nyota.

The Commander sighed. "They don't. But in the event they do, Earth has someone all picked out. He is the son of a former Admiral."

"I don't suppose he'll offer us a drink?" asked Toshi hopefully.

"Sheesh...what a pain," said Patrick.

"You're complaining?" said Nyota. "Spock and I have been trotted out to more of these events than I can count now."

"Twenty-one," said Spock. "I look forward to the end of this conference and these occasions being over."

The Commander laughed. "No, Spock, once the conference is over you can expect this to continue for a few more months at least."

Spock felt his stomach fall. He had expected his privacy to return in a number of days...now was he being told months?

"I don't think I can smile anymore," said Nyota to no one in particular.

...They met with the 'Envoy'.

It was...disappointing.

"Spock and I weren't trying to embarrass him him when we spoke to him in Romulan," Nyota said.

"Not your fault, Cadet. Why would a potential envoy to Romulus be able to speak, you know, Romulan?" grumbled Patrick.

"_Eh._..at least Romulus doesn't actually accept our envoys," said Toshi.

"Fantastic," said Patrick, "I hope the fate of the free galaxy never lies in his hands..."

The Commander just sighed.

The five of them made it back to the laboratory building and went their separate ways for the remainder of the afternoon. The Multidimensional Physics conference began the next day. There was a welcome reception that evening that they had all been ordered to attend.

Spock and Nyota weren't presenting until the last afternoon of the conference. The Admiral had declared, "Once this gets out, no one is going to pay attention to anything else." They were to be the last presentation for that reason.

Nonetheless, even though they had three more days, they spent the afternoon reviewing their presentation in Spock's office. Nyota didn't believe in "cramming last minute." Nor did Spock, though technically with his memory there was nothing to review. Also, Spock was not nervous; he still didn't understand stage fright.

At one point as the afternoon wore on Nyota complained, "I want my hot water bottle!"

Spock was standing behind his desk, hands behind his back. He looked longingly at the door for a moment. It would be so easy to shut it, gather Nyota in his lap, press his forehead to hers...

He looked back at Nyota. She held his gaze for too long, then said, "Okay, I'll just take it from the top."

x x x x x x

The reception was in the same great hall where Spock had 'rumbled with the Vulcans' the previous year. All five of them; Spock, Nyota, the Commander, Patrick and Toshi were introduced to all the important Terran personages at the Conference. They were so busy being paraded around from one person to the other that Spock didn't pay attention to what was really going on in the room around him.

Finally, they gave their respects to the prospective envoy to Romulus...again.

The five of them took a few steps away and the Commander said, "Well that's it, folks; you're free." She excused herself and it was just Spock, Toshi, Patrick and Nyota for a few minutes.

Freedom was relative, Spock realized. He looked down at Nyota and her eyes met his briefly. There would be no real freedom tonight. Spock looked around the room for the first time. He wasn't interested in the reception, but on the other hand, leaving meant leaving Nyota. He wasn't interested in doing that just now either.

The attendees had self-sorted. On one side was a large group of Vulcans, with a few other humanoids intermingled. Spock recognized a few members of the Vulcan Science Academy -- and Xelium and Delang among them.

The other side of the room was primarily human...there were a few Vulcans in this group. None that Spock recognized, but a few of them nodded in Spock's direction. It would be un-Vulcan to come up and introduce themselves.

What was left of the evening Spock spent with humans. They were not shy about coming up and saying hello. A few even tried to shake his hand.

x x x x x x

Nyota was not scheduled to be in attendance the first day of the conference. She had classes to attend, a test to take in the afternoon...So she wasn't in the audience with Spock, the Commander, Toshi and Patrick during the third welcome speech when the admiral's aide came running up to Commander Sharpton.

"Sir," the aid said in a sharp whisper. "Please bring your team down to the lobby immediately; the Admiral needs to speak to you."

When the four of them got to the lobby they met the Admiral. "Lieutenant Commander Spock, are you ready to present?"

"I am prepared."

"You're not presenting the day after tomorrow anymore. We need you to present after lunch," the Admiral said, "Someone has leaked some far flung story to the press about a Romulan _first contact_; obviously, that isn't _exactly_ what we're dealing with here.....we want to get the truth out before the lie spreads halfway across the galaxy and upsets certain people."

And that was that. The next minute Patrick was off to fetch Nyota out of her class, Spock was on his way to pick up the holoscope and projector data from the lab, and the Commander and Toshi were off to tell Xelium and the other presenters for the first afternoon that they'd been rescheduled.

An hour and fifteen minutes later Spock was standing next to Toshi and the Commander on one side of the stage as the Admiral introduced them. On the other side of the stage was the Admiral's seat, the Chancellors and a few other Commanders from the Academy.

Patrick and Nyota were supposed to be on stage with Spock, Sharpton and Toshi, but they had not arrived. Spock was looking off the side of the stage for Nyota and seeing only darkness when the Admiral said, "And now Lieutenant Commander Spock, I hand it over to you."

Spock stepped to the center of the stage and gave much the same presentation he'd given last year...minus the joke. His job was simple, only to describe the materials and methods, and of course to give a brief outline of how converting the data of radio waves at various frequencies to four dimensional subspace data actually worked. He walked through and around the holo displays, pausing to let his human listeners keep up. He did not let himself worry about whether or not he'd wind up giving Nyota's presentation. He'd memorized it instantly and could give it if need be -- although he knew Commander Sharpton felt his delivery would be somehow inadequate.

He finished to applause and there was a rather protracted question answer period.

It was only when the Admiral stepped back up to the podium and Spock was stepping back over to his place by the Commander that Spock saw Nyota coming up the stairs to the stage.

She wasn't smiling. Patrick was right behind her...a hand on her shoulder. She was in her dress uniform. It suddenly occurred to Spock that if she had been in class she would have had to go back to her dorm to change.

He wondered if Patrick had been to her dorm room. Spock had never been anywhere closer than twenty-five meters from the building. He'd seen the layout in video chats with Nyota when Gaila had been out. There was a small entrance hallway. Had Patrick paced there while she changed? Or had he come all the way into the room...perhaps seated himself at her desk...or maybe on her bed? That would certainly be an impropriety.

He took a deep breath. This speculation was getting him nowhere. And he knew, knew, with all that was logical within him that Patrick was _innocent._ Even if he had seated himself on her bed he would not have done anything that was implicitly sexual in nature. He would have just been his usual affectionate friendly human self...

"And now Commander Sharpton will give a few words," the Admiral said.

The Commander took the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen..."

Spock stepped over to where Toshi was standing. Nyota slipped next to him and Patrick stood on her other side. They were not in the spotlight. That was focused on the Commander where she stood on the podium.

"...an unusual collaboration between Vulcan logic and human intuition..." the Commander was intoning.

Spock wasn't listening. Nyota wasn't looking at him. She was looking at the floodlights at the foot of the stage. He heard her swallow and noticed that she was physically shaking.

There was nothing he could do about it. If they had been truly bonded he could send her thoughts of calm through the link. As it was he stood at attention and waited. Surely she would be fine. She always rose to the occasion. Even if she didn't expect to be here giving their presentation at exactly this moment, they'd gone over her part of the presentation adequately.

"And now I'd like to present the young woman responsible for discovering the remarkable message in a bottle you will shortly hear. May I present Cadet Nyota Uhura."

There was a large round of applause. Few knew precisely what the transmission was, but everyone knew something special was happening. Toshi, Patrick and Spock all started clapping as the spotlight shone on Nyota. She smiled but didn't move from where she stood between Patrick and Spock. Patrick stopped clapping and put his hand on her back. Above the roar of the crowd Spock heard Patrick say, "You'll do great, kid."

And it suddenly seemed ridiculous to Spock that he couldn't reach out to her, too. Wasn't he half human? Wasn't he among humans...mostly? Why couldn't he support the person who meant the most to him when she so obviously needed it most? Why did this job seem to be falling on the shoulders of Lieutenant Commander Patrick O'Hara?

The spotlight slipped back to Commander Sharpton as she clapped behind the podium. Although most attention would be focused on the Commander, they were still visible to the audience below. But Spock had had enough. Halting his clapping he looked down at her and gently reached out and touched her wrist. Nyota's shaking stopped. She looked up at him and smiled.

The earth did not stop turning. The applause did not stop. If there were sharp intakes of breath from the Vulcans in the crowd, Spock did not hear them.

Nyota marched to the center of the stage -- at Spock's insistence she didn't hide behind a podium. With the smile still on her face she began to speak. "Lieutenant Commander Spock has described how we interpreted radio frequencies from ancient Terran listening devices..."

Instead of reading the transcription of Captain Kalenel's transmission, Nyota had decided to play it for the audience. She said the emotion in his voice would speak for itself. Instead she had the translation projected on the screen behind her as Captain Kalanel's and the signal station receiver's voices crackled in the silence.

When it ended there were gasps in the crowd. Spock saw humans blotting their eyes.

Nyota gave it a moment to sink in. "We've had this recording and the translations verified by the scientists and scholars at the Vulcan Science Academy. We know it is genuine. What we will never know is Captain Kalanel's motivations.

"Did he simply see the conquest of Earth as a waste of time, life and resources?

"Was he going mad as a result of radiation sickness?

"Or did he have pity on a young race, just starting to reach for the stars?

"In the end there is only thing we do know. Despite being raised in a culture that emphasized blind obedience, a culture bent on conquest, a culture that would have honored his family's name for generations for the discovery of a new world...Captain Kalanel lied. And that lie saved all our lives."

**A/N:**  
Thank you for reading all the way to the bottom...  
If you enjoyed please let me know! Reviews are the only payment a Fan Fic writer is allowed to receive. And if you see how to improve, please let me know.

I've written some short stories in a series called "How the Mighty Have Fallen"...just click my name. It focuses on the effects of Vulcans destruction has on Human/Vulcan interactions. The last story in the series is called "The Seven Year Debt"...it doesn't feature Spock/Uhura but I think it is some of the best work I've ever done. If you're looking for more reading -- and Pon Farr is a topic you're interested in, I'd love your opinions.


	70. Deceived

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock / Nyota or Starfleet**

Thanks to Beta Reader Notes from the Classroom!

**Deceived**

Xelium stared at the stage. He felt uncomfortably warm, he was sweating, and his armpits and his back were uncomfortably damp. His mouth, however, was uncomfortably dry. His presentation had been bumped to the following day. Instead Spock and his little assistant were presenting this afternoon. Obviously, it was the result of favoritism. Commander Sharpton had been blatant in her regard for the alien. She'd had him over to her house a number of times this spring...as had Lieutenant Commander O'Hara and even Professor Matsumura.

Hadn't Xelium been bumped back for the last twenty years? Wasn't it his turn?

What could Spock possibly have discovered that was so monumental, more monumental than 21.75% gains in warp coil efficiency?

He looked sideways at his fellow presenters from the Vulcan Science Academy. They did not seem upset at all. They failed to grasp the humiliating nature of the situation. Xelium exhaled audibly and shifted in his seat.

The stage was rearranged. Chairs were added left and right of the lectern. Xelium watched astonished as the Admiral took to the stage to introduce Spock's research. The words "monumental" and "astounding" were used.

Spock had lied to him! Hadn't he expressly said his research was not going as planned?

He watched as Spock delivered his portion of the presentation. There was nothing new there really. Had the whole world gone mad?

Spock went to the left of the stage, and Commander Sharpton stepped to the lectern. More profuse use of adjectives. Really. What was wrong with these people.

The spotlight turned to where Matsumura, Spock, his little assistant and O'Hara were now standing. The spotlight fell on her. She seemed frozen by the applause that rang through the auditorium. The spotlight went back to Commander Sharpton...but Xelium's eyes didn't leave Spock and his crew. O'Hara was thumping the girl on the back...and now Spock was touching her wrist.

The Vulcan sitting next to him suddenly shifted. He heard a few intakes of breath, and some murmurs in Vulcan.

"What is it?" asked Xelium to his alien colleague.

"We weren't aware that they were bonded," the alien replied. "I suppose it is to be expected he might take a human."

"Bonded?" asked Xelium.

"Bond mates," the Vulcan replied. "They are mated. At least, no Vulcan would normally touch another in that fashion unless they were."

"Spock is half human," one of the other Vulcans said. "Perhaps it is a human gesture?"

But Xelium did not pay attention to that. Mated? He smiled. Apparently his research wasn't the only deception Spock was carrying on...

**A/N:**

Very short. But I figured people would want to know how Xelium put it all together. And why. I get paid in reviews (and negative ones with constructive criticism really do help!) So if you can, please drop me a line.

Notice one Vulcan did suggest that it was just a human gesture. They are NOT all bad. There are Kevals (see how the Mighty Ch 10: Seven Year Debt), Tybacks and T'Lans...and more in the sequel).

Oh - Tyback is also in How the Mighty in the Chapter titled "Betrayal". He's also all over Drabbles.


	71. The Small Lie

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock / Nyota or Starfleet  
**

Thanks to my Beta Reader…who removed her name from the prologue here. You know who you are!

**The Small Lie**

In the roar of applause Patrick said, "Whew, that went well! She was having her dress uniform professionally cleaned. We had to run across campus to get it. Then we brought it back to the dorm so she could change and do her makeup...I swear, the lobby of that building...The chairs will break your back."

And then Spock realized that, of course, Patrick had never gone near her room.

As Nyota came back over to stand between them she was grinning ear to ear.

"Well done, Cadet Uhura," said Toshi.

"Thanks for the moral support, guys!" she said. She looked first at Toshi, then Patrick, and then gave a long happy gaze in Spock's direction.

After Spock and Nyota's presentation it seemed like every one else's work was forgotten.

It was illogical to Spock. Surely innovations that could improve the efficiency of warp coils were more important than a long dead Romulan?

But humans were very emotional. In the following days Spock and Nyota's discovery was everywhere, in the news, in the corridors of Starfleet and the Federation Legislature. There were calls for a new holiday, commissions for statues -- everyone wanted to be able to see what Kalanel looked like. Spock fielded dozens of questions regarding the use of larger frequency ranges to get visual data from the subspace transmissions as well as audio.

And then there was the other part of the story. The discovery had been made by a Vulcan and a human. The press called it a beautiful mind meld of emotion and logic.

Commander Sharpton said it was Spock and Nyota's fifteen minutes of fame. Disappointingly, it lasted more than fifteen minutes.

In the last three days of the conference there was no mention of Spock's public display of affection. He got the impression that humans had not even noticed.

He did notice that the Vulcans who had nodded at him the previous day no longer did so. And he saw D'Zorack's and the other council members' stares. But he did not see how that could possibly affect him. It was not as though he had kissed her or initiated an empathic link in public. It was a human gesture, wasn't it?

x x x x x x x

Nyota was happy the whole thing went so well. She didn't mention his physical demonstration directly. She just called it 'moral support' when they chatted by comm.

By comm was the only place Spock was able to catch Nyota alone for over a week...They didn't even see one another in the lab. His monitor had two fingerprints on the screen from where he would symbolically press his fingers to link with her. Nyota called it 'comm kissing'. She always answered by pressing her own fingers to her screen. There was no electric spark when she did so, though.

The following Thursday he was in the lab when he got a call from the engineering department saying that they had prototypes for a portable subspace receiver. Would he like someone to bring one over?

He replied in the affirmative and then contacted Nyota. She wasn't scheduled to come in that day, but maybe she'd have time for just a peek?

Of course she was eager. She came over to his office during the early afternoon. The device had already been delivered and was resting on his desk. As soon as she entered, Spock checked outside the entrance of his office...the halls sounded mostly empty; it was the lunch hour. He broke another of their rules and closed his office door.

Nyota did not complain when he pressed his fingers to her temples and dropped his forehead to hers.

She was elated, in fact. "It's been too long."

"Yes," he agreed.

She took a deep breath. "Just one kiss would be alright?"

"I think that would be accept --"

She caught her lips in his, and he was silent.

Of course it wasn't just one kiss. How could it be? One kiss led to another and then Spock found himself picking Nyota up and putting her on his desk. Spreading her knees Spock stepped between her legs. Draping her arms around him she nipped softly down his ears and whispered, "I missed you."

Spock was too busy biting back a purr to respond. He surveyed their position. "Nyota, I seem to recall this locale being central to the plot in many erotic Terran holos...."

"You've seen porn holos where they do it in the teacher's office?" Nyota giggled and he put a hand to her temples to feel the buzz.

"When I was a cadet my human roommate did not think that Starfleet curriculum provided a well-rounded enough education."

Nyota laughed, "And he expanded your course listing to include Porn 101."

"Indeed, that is precisely what he called it, too."

Wrapping her legs around his waist she murmured. "This is a very bad idea."

It had been nearly two weeks since they'd been physically in each other's company alone. "Surely we should not discontinue before doing a thorough cost benefit analysis?" Spock suggested, dragging his hands down the curve of her waist.

From the lab came a cough muffled by the office door.

"Toshi," said Nyota sighing and pressing her forehead again to his.

"Toshi," agreed Spock.

He backed regretfully away from Nyota. She slid off the desk and reached forward to straighten his hair. Dragging his fingers briefly down her temples Spock turned away and opened the door.

There was no one in the lab. Spock tilted his head.

Peering over his shoulder, Nyota said, "I think that was a wake up call."

"Indeed." Spock lifted an eyebrow...was she speaking figuratively or literally? "Cadet, let me show you the prototype..."

A few minutes later both he and Nyota snapped to attention as Commander Sharpton entered. She waved in the gesture they knew to mean "at ease."

Nyota smiled. "Commander Sharpton," she exclaimed happily, "how are you? It's the first prototype from the engineering department," she explained, directing the Commander to the prototype. "The Lieutenant Commander just invited me over to see it. I think that it might be nice for lonely colonists on distant outposts without subspace stations to receive a birthday greeting from their mother on occasion...he doesn't share my enthusiasm."

Spock said nothing; he merely flipped the object in his hands and tapped gingerly at what looked like speakers.

"Ah, your new baby," the Commander said.

Spock looked up and raised an eyebrow in surprise. That was a curious expression. They had not conceived the device at all; it had been conceived by the engineering department-- granted, using theories that were his.

"It's an expression; I will explain it later," Uhura said.

"Uhura, I'd like to talk to Spock alone for a few minutes," the Commander said.

"That's alright; I was just on my way to my next class. Have a good day, Commander Sharpton, Lieutenant Commander." She nodded in their directions, grabbed a bag that had been sitting on the floor and headed out the door. Spock followed her with his eyes. They'd been apart too long and their time together had been far too short.

He turned towards the Commander; she followed Nyota with her eyes a moment longer and then turned to him.

"You might want to sit down for this, Spock; I know I need to," she said, looking around for something.

Spock remained where he was, but he put down the transmitter and pulled his hands behind his back.

The Commander sighed audibly. "Spock, I'm very embarrassed to have to have this conversation with you...and I want to say at the outset that I have no doubt of your innocence...You've been accused of professional misconduct. Specifically of being in an inappropriate relationship with a subordinate."

Spock felt himself go warm. His pulse quickened, but he managed to maintain his outward calm. "May I ask on what evidence?"

"Spock..." she laughed nervously, not looking at him. "You are guilty of squeezing a girl's hand in public and looking at her in the wrong way."

Hand? Girl? Spock tilted his head and looked at the floor. "Ahhh...before she delivered the translation...Cadet Uhura. It was not her hand; it was her wrist. I noticed that her heart rate was elevated. She is surprisingly shy about public speaking." Another pause, and then he continued, "I have noticed that brief gestures of physical contact are calming to humans under stress. I acknowledged the gesture and her nervousness with eye contact."

Patrick had at that same moment been in the process of slapping her on the back...had embraced her on occasion, too. Why was he being accused for touching her wrist? He felt himself becoming quite...angry.

The Commander smiled. Why was she smiling? This was not a joke.

"I knew, of course, you would have a perfectly logical explanation."

Ahh...she saw his reasoning and decision to give comfort as logical. Then who...

The Commander sighed. "Well, the Vulcan Interspecies Council got involved. They, of course, find the gesture highly offensive, indicative of a deeper relationship, and evidence of a deterioration of your mental abilities. But as you so logically pointed out, you were just demonstrating cross-cultural sensitivity."

He could still see the world, but it was darker. It was as if a veil was coming over Spock's vision...he was enraged. He'd left his homeworld, but apparently his homeworld had not left him. He could never be Vulcan enough...but when he tried to be human...

"I'm supposed to verify with you privately that there is no more untoward behavior between you and Cadet Uhura, and the council is recommending that you be placed under observation." The Commander continued, "Of course, what I would really like to do is blow this up in their faces. I know Vulcans are private about such matters, but this is...this is unacceptable."

"What are you proposing?" Spock asked.

"I'm proposing we go public with it, bring the charges out in the open--preferably before the Interspecies Council and the chancellor. You'll defend yourself, show how baseless the accusations are. It's outrageous the standards they are holding you to!"

The rage was still in him. But also a tiny growing seed of panic. Go public? He walked slowly around his desk and seated himself in his chair. He rested his elbows on the table and clasped his hands in front of him.

Could he go public? Denounce that there was a relationship between himself and Nyota? He could barely string the words together in his mind. Let alone before an assembly. His actions had been internally logical...but...they still defied the rules of Starfleet. The rules he had agreed to obey. It had been a calculated risk.

But...the Commander had offered him another choice, hadn't she?

"Commander," he said, "I would prefer not to take such a public course of action."

Sharpton took a deep breath. "Spock, I think we could just get away with you reading a prepared statement enumerating the logic behind your perceived misbehavior and declaring your innocence. You are a Vulcan, your word is your bond--there will be no cross questioning. Then I'll ream them a new one for the absurdity of it all."

Perceived misbehavior...it was more than perceived wasn't it?

"Commander, I have never let emotion cloud my judgment of Cadet Uhura's or any other student or aides performance. I have kept excellent records of ..."

"Of course you haven't let emotion influence your grading Spock!" The Commander was nearly shouting. "You've never let emotion cloud anything. You are the most cold, calculating, controlled mind in this department. And we all love you for it! That is why I want to go public with this. To shame your accusers, clear your and Uhura's names and get on with it. All you have to do, Spock, is declare your innocence. It's that simple...isn't it?"

His word was his bond. "Declare my innocence..."

He had not been innocent. But...

Spock was silent for a long moment. "It is not that simple." But it should be, shouldn't it?

"Spock, I really don't understand the problem. Is it your Vulcan sense of propriety?"

"No. It is not a matter of propriety."

All he had to do was declare his innocence to the Commander now. He would be put under observation, but his and Nyota's names would be clear. He tried to wrap his mouth around the words, any words that would deny his guilt. And found his mind was drawing a blank. It was worse than trying to say 'I love you', or 'I miss you'. The words literally weren't there.

His actions had been...illogical. And his Vulcan mind was rebelling.

"You see, I seem to be unable to lie," he said it more to himself than to the Commander.

What a terrible time to discover how Vulcan he really was. The veil of anger that clouded his eyes got darker. He was angry at the Vulcan Council, at humans and their undecipherable customs...but mostly at himself.

The Commander walked over to the wall opposite Spock and weakly sat down in the extra chair. She put one hand to her forehead, massaged her temple, and muttered under her breath, "Oh, hell, Spock."

x x x x x x

Doris stopped massaging her temple. Well, this...sucked. She crossed her arms and looked up at the half Vulcan. He wasn't facing her; his head was lifted and he was staring at an indefinable space on the wall above her shoulder. His face had no emotion...it was blank again.

It was hard to believe there was any passion beneath that cool exterior. A thought occurred to Doris--weren't Vulcans horrible prudes? Well, obviously, considering the substance of the Vulcans' accusations. "You know Spock, if the extent of this inappropriate relationship is just a brushing of a wrist now and then, even a kiss...really...how hard would it be to deny the whole thing?"

Spock's eyes met hers and one of his eyebrows went up. "So it is a matter of degree in the nature of the physical relationship that counts?" Did his nostrils just flare ever so slightly? "Really, Commander, that seems entirely illogical..." One of his eyebrows rose. "...if you will pardon the expression."

Was that humor? Very dry, indeed, if it was.

"If the rules exist to prevent favoritism," the half Vulcan continued, "Commander, surely then it is the emotional relationship that is important? Whether the physical relationship was absent or fully consummated would hardly make a difference." His eyes locked on hers.

"But it is difficult to measure an emotional relationship, Spock." She sighed. "So we only have the physical manifestations to go by."

Spock sat absolutely immobile, eyes still on hers.

"You haven't answered my question, Spock. I'm looking for a way out of this for you. A way for you to confront the Council honestly and deny any wrongdoing. If the physical manifestations of the relationship are trivial, surely you can deny everything with a clear conscience?"

Spock said nothing; he just tilted his head, eyes still trained on her own. There was something about the movement that was oddly reptilian...

Alright then. "I see." Much more than she ever wanted to, actually.

"Who knew that under that cool Vulcan control there were human emotions?" Although she asked it out loud, it was more directed at herself.

Spock looked down at his desk; he seemed uncertain again. "My emotions are...Vulcan. It is my control...that is human."

For some reason Doris didn't want to dwell on that comment.

She thought back to a day, nearly a year ago, when she practically had to order Spock to show Cadet Uhura some appreciation for all the work she'd done for him that first semester. Had she been the one to push them together? Her mind fast forwarded through all the times she'd seen them in each others' company. The conference last year...she remembered Uhura quietly explaining slang, and pointing out dishes to Spock. The Cadet had been so cool, so professional...

Uhura had been his interpreter.

And even at one of Doris' own recent get togethers -- Spock hadn't understood the expression "on your back," and the cadet had explained.

They'd left together that evening, on Doris' order, actually. Doris exhaled sharply. How wonderfully convenient for them.

They had been terribly discreet, she realized. They never arrived together at events; they seldom departed together. They didn't touch in public...well...except for apparently when it really mattered and the shit could hit the fan...

She stood up and began to pace the room. What the hell had they been thinking? One of the most gifted researchers and one of the most gifted students, neither of whom had probably broken a Starfleet code in their life. Except this one. This big one.

"You know, the rules exist for a reason, Spock."

His head was lifted; he was staring straight ahead again. "The rules exist to prevent favoritism -- and to protect cadets from undue compulsion."

So that is how he justified it all. "And you would never exercise favoritism no matter what your relationship to Uhura was...because you seem incapable of lying...even lie when it could save you, me and your girlfriend a freighter load of trouble..." Doris added with some bitterness.

Spock stood up quickly. And took a deep breath. His head turned fast towards Doris, and for a moment she thought she imagined the slight edge of a snarl on his lips...but then it was gone.

He was ticked off, she realized...and that ticked her off. She was the one who was really going to have to deal with this mess. She didn't want this sort of attention heaped upon her department. Hadn't she done a lot for both of them? She'd practically ordered Spock to decipher Kalanel's transmission...

...then again, hadn't he done a lot for her? Her name was on one of the most important historical finds of the century. And both the Cadet and Spock had been trotted out to all of the important head-honchos and know-nothings they wanted to impress. It was doubtful Doris would ever have trouble getting funding for...well, anything, for a long, long time...

If she kept this quiet.

Spock put his arms in their characteristic position behind his back and said softly in an almost musing tone, "I have always found the word 'girlfriend' to be inaccurate in describing her relationship to me."

It was a statement. And a plea? Obviously he cared deeply about Cadet Uhura...He'd stood up for her numerous times when someone forgot who originally found Kalanel's transmission; he would not let Uhura walk alone from Doris' house to the shuttle stop that night...

How to fix this...

"Okay, Spock, here is what we're dealing with. The Vulcan Interspecies Council has agreed not to drag this out in public if you submit to observation..."

"Commander, as I understand Starfleet rules, if I were human, the public display of...affection...that I demonstrated with Cadet Uhura would not be cause for any sort of investigation, much less observation."

He wanted to be human, to play by human rules...well, the rule he seemed to want to play was 'Don't ask don't tell...' -- still if he weren't Vulcan she wouldn't be here right now.

"No, Spock, it wouldn't. It isn't fair they would judge you on such an innocuous touch."

"Then why..."

"Because Spock, in order to make sure that all species are treated fairly, Starfleet established governing boards to step in in case of interspecies 'misunderstandings'. And..." her eyebrow went up at the irony, "...apparently the touch wasn't innocuous...there was misunderstanding from most of us humans..."

Apparently, the Vulcans did know their own...

"If I were human I would not be facing these accusations."

Doris felt herself getting flustered. "Spock, if you were human you'd fight this. Loudly. You'd fume at the injustice. You'd lie."

He wasn't Vulcan enough not to break the rules, but apparently he wasn't human enough to defend himself...

"Commander, under the circumstances, I believe that it would be prudent for me to resign my commission..."

"Spock, how old are you?" she snapped, cutting him off.

"I am twenty-seven years, one month and six days," he replied straightening.

"You're a baby," she said. "Even by human standards. Don't Vulcans reach maturity around forty-nine or something?"

"Vulcans mature at very different rates," he said, his voice controlled and clinical. "As early as fourteen for some, later than fifty for others..."

"Whatever, you're young..."

She stared at him. How many mistakes had she made in her life? And the Vulcan Council...although they might know their own, wasn't Spock half human? Wasn't he entitled to a few mistakes?

He and Cadet Uhura had done great things together...Doris' name was on those great things, too.

"...Your career is just beginning...You're not going to resign your commission! Resign your commission and you'll draw even more attention to yourself...and to Cadet Uhura...Spock, you've done great things here. For Earth. For Starfleet. For me!

"You've just also managed to fuck up..." she laughed low, "...literally."

Spock's head dropped.

"I don't know that I can..."

"You'd have difficulty lying, Spock...I get that. But I can!"

"You..." his head lifted.

"I'll go to the Vulcan Council and say that you denied everything. It won't be very hard...really, what have you told me? That you can't lie, that it is inaccurate to describe Uhura as your girlfriend, that you've always graded her and all your students on their merits...not based on any emotional attachment...

"But before I do...you have to tell me...is there anything else I should know? Any more inappropriate touching or moments that might have been observed on Starfleet campus?

Spock tilted his head but did not look at her. "Professor Matsumura...he may have seen me touch Cadet Uhura's fingers..."

Doris was curious; the way he said it made it sound significant. "A touch on the fingers?"

One of Spock's eyebrows rose, "We are contact telepaths; our fingertips are particularly sensitive...humans, though not telepathic, also have very well innervated finger pads. They are surprisingly receptive..."

"Okay, I get it." That was intimate contact. And Toshi, that slippery fish, would understand. "You don't have to worry about Toshi. He has already stood up for you." And Patrick, too, in a louder, more 'Patrick' way...did he know?

Spock looked up at her.

"When Xelium suggested you be immediately dragged before the council, Toshi suggested a more private meeting between you and me alone would be more appropriate," Doris explained. Toshi was probably fully expecting her to cover for Spock, too...he was annoyingly astute in his judgment of character. She almost groaned at her own predictability.

"Professor Xelium?" asked Spock.

"Brought the charge with the council. Why? Has there been a conflict between you?"

Spock looked away. "None that I am aware of. I helped him with his most recent research..."

Which had been thoroughly ignored in the hubbub of Spock's own finding. "Don't even try to understand crazy, Spock. It will only give you a headache...

"I will go before the Vulcan Council. I will refute the charges. They will want you to submit to observation, though."

"For the sake of both my and Cadet Uhura's reputation, that would be wise," Spock said.

"They said you would say that."

Spock looked down. "It would also be wise, if they suggest it, that I not be required to submit to counseling."

"Counseling? I thought you guys didn't even talk under torture?" Doris said with a dry laugh.

Spock said, head tilted, "Torture is one thing. Counseling..."

"Right. Well, I'm sure you'll be under observation for a while. All your movements and conversations will be monitored via comm. I'll do what I can to keep it short."

Spock looked up at her. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, Spock I'm meeting the Vulcan Council this afternoon." She looked at her watch. "In about an hour and a half..."

An hour and a half more of freedom -- maybe two. She did feel for him.

Spock's nostrils flared, ever so slightly. He quickly looked back down at his desk.

"Spock, I'm putting my ass on the line for you now..." Doris' voice rose. "If you go down, I go down with you...and so does Cadet Uhura. Don't you dare fuck up."

**A/N:**  
Whew! Yay, Commander Sharpton. Well, maybe not 'Yay!' precisely, she is a political operator…but aren't most faculty heads? Reviews are the only way I get paid. Please leave me a note if you've been enjoying this story.


	72. Epilogue Pike

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock, Pike, Nyota or Starfleet**

Thanks to Beta Reader Notes from the Classroom

**Epilogue (Pike)**

Captain Christopher Pike was getting the shit beat out of him by the half Vulcan...and Pike couldn't be happier.

After nearly three weeks of attempts he'd finally hit pay dirt.

He'd won.

The Farragut was parked for repairs. And Pike was temporarily stationed at Starfleet Academy. Aside from trying to find a new science officer, he really didn't have enough to do.

Pike started going to the gym more often, which is where he first encountered Lieutenant Commander Spock.

He knew of the Lieutenant Commander, of course. Everyone knew about the young researcher who had discovered and interpreted the Romulan Kalanel's last transmission. The first time he saw Spock in the gym he wouldn't have known him to be that same reserved man who he'd seen make the presentation in the holos. Spock was flying at a punching bag, lashing at it with his feet and then his fists. Sweat was dripping off his body. His face though...his face was that perfect mask of Vulcan control.

What the hell was this guy doing planet side? And how the hell could Pike get Spock on _his_boat?

Pike walked over to the bundle of humanoid fury crashing against the punching bag. Spock stopped his attack as Pike approached too close. The half Vulcan grabbed the dangerously swinging bag and stared at Pike, breathing heavily.

"I know a bit of _Suss Mahn_," Pike said. "I can provide you with a little more of a challenge...unless your current sparring partner is all you can handle."

"If you are trying to use an insult to elicit an emotional response from me in order to engage me in a match, you will fail," Spock replied.

Pike smiled. "You are a Vulcan. Actually, I would love to brush up on my skills; it has been a while. Maybe you can help me out?"

There you go, Pike thought. Appeal to a the Vulcan's sense of obligation.

It worked. Spock nodded. Pike motioned him towards some open mats on the floor.

Spock went easy on him that first match - and the Vulcan still won easily.

Still, it gave Pike a chance to introduce himself and after their first match he asked, "Have you ever considered a position in the fleet?"

Spock stood about a meter away, hands on his hips, breathing slightly heavily. "No, I have never seriously contemplated the matter."

"You should," said Pike. "It would suit you."

The half Vulcan only tilted his head.

After that Pike sparred with Spock whenever he got the chance. He never won. But Spock never went that hard on him, either.

Pike's _Suss Mahn_ skills did improve. At a certain point in one of the matches his fist connected with something hard on the half Vulcan's chest. Spock was wearing an undershirt beneath a loose sweatshirt so it wouldn't be visible just by observation alone...unless one looked closely.

It was a comm link…Pike was almost certain of it. It was strange that Spock wore it while sparring in the gym. Unless…

Pike said nothing; he just continued to fight. In all of their following matches Pike was careful to look for the faint outline of the comm on Spock's chest. It was always there.

During all their matches Pike laid on the recruiting pitch: see faraway planets first hand, be the first to discover alien life forms, put your scientific knowledge to practical use...

Pike tried those lines and more. Spock would invariably nod his head and say, "I will consider it."

Pike knew he was getting nowhere. He knew Vulcans well enough to understand that if Spock said he would consider it, it meant that the Vulcan actually had some interest. However, he also knew that Vulcans could take a great deal of time making up their minds unless suitably motivated.

So how to reach the guy? After two and a half weeks Pike decided it was time to do some leg work. He knew two of the guys who had stood up with Spock on the stage the day Captain Kalanel's transmission was revealed, and he knew where to find them.

It wasn't a bar. It was a proper Irish Pub. There was the typical bar to one side, but there were also high backed armchairs set about the room. Situated near a fireplace that was lit despite the relatively warm San Francisco weather, he saw one of the men he was looking for - Toshi Matsumura...and...

He expected to see Toshi with Patrick...but Toshi's companion at that moment was quite different. Pike was usually a slightly cocky man, but the Vulcan woman sitting across from Toshi...well...it gave him such a sense of cognitive dissonance he felt his jaw descend towards the floor.

Pike knew the very attractive female Vulcan. In human years she would have appeared to be in her forties, but she was closer to eighty. Pike blinked; what was Commander T'Quilloc of the Vulcan Intelligence Service doing with Toshi Matsumura in an Irish Pub?

Pike knew T'Quilloc was in town; they'd seen each other at an official function. And he and T'Quilloc were on the same team...they'd both been fighting Starfleet and the Vulcan High Command for greater sharing of information between the various intelligence agencies. What with the shit going down in the neutral zone, everyone needed to share. Even the Klingons.

Huh. After the stunt Toshi had pulled as a Cadet there was no way she could be pumping Toshi for information. Toshi did not have access to anything that would be remotely considered classified. He wasn't even a commissioned officer and...

Toshi, looked up and saw him. T'Quilloc followed the direction of Toshi's gaze and nodded in Pike's direction.

Pike approached, for once his normal bravado gone. What were these two doing together?

"Christopher," said Toshi. "How nice to see you. May I introduce you to my _t'hynea_, T'Quilloc?"

Christopher noticed Toshi was using the Vulcan word for friend.

"We've met," said Christopher.

"It is good to see you, Christopher," T'Quilloc said evenly. She turned to Toshi and said some words in Vulcan Pike couldn't follow. Toshi nodded. They both stood up, gave the Vulcan salute and said some more words in Vulcan. Then they bowed to one another slightly and T'Quilloc left with a sidelong glance at Pike. Pike and Toshi both followed her with their eyes.

"Your friend?" asked Pike incredulously.

"My _t'hynea_," said Toshi and shrugged. "Don't worry, Christopher. You know I have nothing of importance to tell her."

"Then what were you..."

"Catching up," said Toshi. "It's what friends do, _hai?_" He shrugged again.

"So where's your usual partner in crime?"

"Look behind you."

Pike turned around to see Patrick entering the pub.

"Christopher!" Patrick shouted, heading over to shake his hand, a wide grin on his face.

The three settled down, Patrick and Toshi in the arm chairs, Pike on a stool he pulled up. "Let me get you guys a round…" Pike said.

One round led to another, and at last Pike felt like they were loosened up enough to talk.

"So, what can you guys tell me about your buddy Spock?"

Patrick and Toshi looked each other in the eye.

"Why are you asking?" Patrick asked, taking a sip of his Guinness.

"Because I want him for my science officer."

Both Toshi and Patrick seemed to relax. They looked at each other and over to Pike.

"It might suit him..." said Toshi.

"He is damn curious," added Patrick. "And they don't deserve to keep him here..."

"Who is 'they'?" asked Pike.

"The bureaucrats of Starfleet," Toshi said with a hint of bitterness. Toshi always had trouble with authority, Pike knew. There were reasons he was not an officer. Of course, there were also reasons Starfleet had kept him as a professor...the guy was brilliant.

"The Vulcan Interspecies Council," Patrick spat.

"Is he under observation for something?" asked Pike. "I checked his record; it's clean...but the guy even wears his comm in the gym, when he's sparring..."

Patrick and Toshi clammed up.

"I only ask, guys...'cause I'm trying to convince him to become my science officer. And nothing is working. You know I won't say anything to anyone."

They were both silent for a long time. Both took a few more sips of their drinks.

At last Toshi sighed. "He tried to be human, to follow human rules, without understanding he'd be judged as a Vulcan."

"He touched a Cadet's wrist. The Vulcans figured it was a symptom of some deep torrid affair between them," said Patrick.

"Well?" asked Pike.

"Well, what?" asked Patrick.

"Was there a torrid affair between them?" asked Pike.

"Spock?" asked Patrick incredulously. "No, that guy, he's too cool and unemotional for that. Not that he isn't a great guy. Toshi and I both love him. You should have seen him defend the whole human race in front of some Vulcan Science Academy jerks and the Vulcan Interspecies Council. "

Pike barely heard anything after the words, 'too cool and unemotional.' The man he'd seen beating a punching back at the gym was in no way unemotional, no matter what mask of calm he wore on his face.

The next time he fought with Spock, Pike had a different pitch.

"You know," Pike said, barely dodging a blow, "the really great thing about serving on board a boat is that it is its own little world. There is really only one rule everyone has to follow...and that is to do their jobs."

Pike blocked a blow with his arm. The half Vulcan really went easy on him, he realized. That had definitely not been full Vulcan strength.

"You become really close to your crew members," Pike continued. "You're like a family. All that matters is you do your job and do it well. It doesn't matter where you're from. It doesn't matter what species you are...it doesn't even matter who you sleep with..."

Spock bounced backwards on the balls of his feet. He said nothing. His face still showed no emotion, but suddenly his fists were raining down on Pike like they'd rained down on that punching bag the first time Pike had seen him.

Pike did his best to hide his smile. He'd found his science officer.

Afterwards Pike lay on the floor. Spock stood panting slightly over him.

Sitting up but not standing, Pike added one thing more. "I'll make sure you get a new comm. One that no one listens to. You have not been treated fairly." Pike honestly believed that last bit. No matter what Spock had done, the only evidence was a freaking wrist touch, for Christ's sake. The guy had obviously managed to do his job quite well. Better than well.

Spock looked down at the ground. He probably didn't trust him, Pike realized. Vulcan abilities to read humans weren't worth spit. Pike held out two arms as though asking Spock wordlessly for a lift. "Go ahead and read me if you want."

The Vulcan paced a few feet and looked down at Pike. Grabbing Pike's hands Spock lifted him to his feet. As he did so that feeling Pike had felt a long time ago from a different Vulcan started to trail up Pike's fingers.

When he was standing, Spock let his fingers trail over Pike's own. There was a flicker of electricity. Pike knew Spock couldn't read his mind, but he'd know if Pike was being deceptive. And of course Pike was being completely and utterly sincere.

Spock put his hands down and looked at Pike. "I trust you," he said. For a moment he was quiet. Then he asked, "When would you like me to report for duty?"

**A/N:**

So now we're nearly two years before the movie…and Spock's on his way up into the heavens. Where hopefully he'll really hone those natural abilities of his. The sequel to this story is up and complete, it's called "The Vulcan".

Reviews == love...

Also, you might consider checking out my original fiction. Publishing original stories is how I keep my husband off my back for writing so much fanfiction! "Murphy's Star" is a short story, it is sort of the Spock/Uhura baby!fic I will never write (because when I was writing it my husband nagged me into making it an original story). It is only 99 cents. Links are in my profile.

If you like mythology you might like my "I Bring the Fire" series. The first part of the series is only 99 cents, and stars Myth!Loki. There is a free excerpt in "My Stories", links to it and the sequel "Monsters" are in my profile.

And of course I have loads of free fanfiction! If you love Star Trek, and romance, you might enjoy "The Native" my Sarek/Amanda origins story, and also, "Logical Propositions", starring Kirk and T'Pring. Yes, you read that right! I also have a Kirk/Uhura story called "5 Times Spock Cheated on Nyota". It was based on a kink meme prompt and it got a lot of love and a lot of hate in equal measure.

Thanks again!


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